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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25712845">A caged songbird</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashaxxxxxx/pseuds/tashaxxxxxx'>tashaxxxxxx</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Anal Sex, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Butt Plugs, Cock Slapping, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gags, Gang Rape, Hurt Jaskier | Dandelion, Hurt/Comfort, Non-Consensual Bondage, Non-Consensual Spanking, Omega Jaskier | Dandelion, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Sexual Slavery, Slavery, Soulmates, Suicidal Thoughts, Whipping, graphic depiction of rape and violence</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-08-04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-08-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 09:56:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Explicit</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>47,693</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25712845</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashaxxxxxx/pseuds/tashaxxxxxx</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>When Jaskier was sold as a sex slave to to King Vizimir of Redania to settle his Father’s debts, the last thing he expected was for it to lead him to his true soulmate.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>62</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>745</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Please read the tags.  This is non con with graphic depictions of violence and rape.  Please do NOT read if you are uncomfortable with any of this.</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Julian presented as an omega at the age of 14, much to his Father’s disappointment.  He was an only child, the soul heir to the Lettenhove estate.  Up until his 14th birthday Julian had been Julian Alfred Pankratz Viscount de Lettenhove.  Upon presenting as an omega he simply became Julian.  A disappointment to the family.  Julian couldn’t have been more thrilled.</p><p>He’d never wanted to be Viscount Julian, always preferring to spend the hours stuck in his classes daydreaming of adventures and travelling.  Making up song lyrics and poems which he used to impress anyone who would listen to them.  His Father had always hated Julian’s passion for music and arts but he had allowed it as long as Julian ensured he completed his studies in politics and history first.  Jaskier enjoyed his lessons in history, past events greatly influencing a number of his first songs which he wrote at the tender age of 12.  But politics where to Julian the dullest part of his days.  When he presented as an omega, the lessons his Father had specifically made him attend in order to learn how to follow in his Father’s footsteps where stopped.  And Julian was pleased.  It gave him more time to perfect his music.</p><p>Now he was no longer Viscount Julian,  his Father mostly ignored him, pretended he didn’t exist.  Not that that made much change to his general attitude towards Julian.  He had never shown much interest in his son, leaving his schooling and discipline to Julian’s teachers.  Julian’s mother, his Father’s soulmate, had died giving birth to Julian.  He thought that was perhaps why his Father had never bonded with his son.  Only ever seeing the child that had murdered his soul mate, never his son.</p><p>Julian often wondered what his soulmate would be like.  The soulmark, sitting on his chest just above his heart was barely the length of his palm.  It was the silhouette of a white wolf.  Beautiful and intimidating, walking across Julian’s chest as if stalking prey.  A small dandelion, sitting underneath the white wolf’s front paw finished the soul mark.  It was a beautiful thing, Julian spending many hours looking at it and daydreaming of the romance of finding his partner.  He knew not everyone found their soulmates but Julian was sure one day he would find his.</p><p>When Julian asked his Father, at the age of 15, if he could attend Oxenfurt to learn the seven liberal arts, Julian had fully expected the man to say no.  If Julian hadn’t presented as an omega, had still been the Viscount de Lettenhove, then he knew his Father would have.  But instead his Father had looked at his son, standing in front of him in his study, back straight and trying desperately to keep the nerves from his face, he had said yes.  Julian left that very same day.</p><p>Oxenfurt was a true marvel.  The music, the people, the art; everything drew young Julian in.  He had his lute case strung over his back and as he watched the crowds of brightly coloured people moving around he felt a song in his heart.  Upon entering the university grounds, he dropped the name Julian and donned the name Jaskier.  He may have been disinherited from Lettenhove but that didn’t matter, Jaskier would be the greatest bard that ever lived.</p><p>He spent a year in Oxenfurt and it was the happiest Jaskier had ever been.  Jaskier studied hard and made music at every spare minute he could.  The university was surprisingly accommodating for the omega, offering a special room where Julian could wait out his heats without the fear of alpha’s smelling the sweet scent of his heat and taking him.  Jaskier wasn’t treated any differently to his beta and alpha peers, the university professors deeming that anyone who wished to learn could and should, regardless of their supposed status in the world.  One of Jaskier’s favourite tutors, Madeline, who helped perfect his lute was an omega herself.  She was one of the best music professors in the university and it showed Jaskier that it was possible to be an omega and still make something out of himself.</p><p>Jaskier enjoyed more freedom that year in Oxenfurt than he had ever had in Lettenhove.  Looking back now, he wished he’d enjoyed it more.</p><p>His Father called him home during the winter solstice of Jaskier’s second year in Oxenfurt.  He hadn’t wanted to return home but the very fact his Father, who hadn’t sent any sort of word to Jaskier in the year he had been away from Lettenhove, had sent him word sent a pit of worry through Jaskier’s chest.  What if he was ill?  What if he was dying?  He and his Father may not be close but he was still his Father at the end of the day.</p><p>So Jaskier had returned to Lettenhove expecting the worst.  What he had found was so much worse than he could have expected.  His Father took him aside the first night Jaskier returned, a grave look on his face.  He had settled a gentle hand on Jaskier’s shoulders, sending a pit of worry racing through Jaskier’s shoulders.  His Father very rarely showed Jaskier any affection and when he did it was because something was wrong.</p><p>Seated on the soft armchairs of his Father’s study, Count de Lettenhove had turned his face to Jaskier and took his sons hands in his own.  “Julian, my boy.  You look so much like your Mother.”  He had begun. Jaskier had perked up at this.  His Father so rarely spoke of his Mother that Jaskier found himself listening intently, wanting to know everything that his Father was willing to share.  “She would be ashamed of me these last few years.  I have neglected you.  I have not loved you the way she would have.  The way I should have.”  Jaskier was surprised to find there were tears in his Father’s eyes and found his own clogging up.  “If I could change it I would.  And I am sorry.”</p><p>“You have nothing to apologise for.”  Jaskier immediately said.  His Father was a strong man.  A man who rarely let his emotions get the better of him and Jaskier couldn’t bare to see the tears  falling down his Father’s face.</p><p>“I do.  I have everything to apologise for.  Julian...your mother would have stopped this.  She would have never let this happen and I want you to know if there were another way I would not allow it.”  Jaskier didn’t understand what his Father was talking about as he sat dumbly looking at him.  “We are in debt.  A lot of debt.”  That didn’t surprise Jaskier.  His Father had never disclosed it himself but ever since Jaskier had been old enough to understand the whispers of the servants he had understood of his Father’s gambling and excessive drinking.  Brought on by the loss of Jaskier’s Mother, his soulmate.  “I have been offered an opportunity to pay these debts off.  To allow me to put the money where it is most needed to see Lettenhove prosper.  You must understand that I wouldn’t do this otherwise.”</p><p>“I don’t understand Father.”  Jaskier said, eyes furrowing in confusion.  It was no secret that Lettenhove had fallen on hard times these recent years.  The people could barely afford the taxes and the lands were falling into disrepair because of it.  If someone was offering the money to repair this, to help their people surely it was a joyous thing. So why was did his Father look so forlorn.</p><p>“King Vizimir of Redania has made an offer.  4000 gold coins.”  Jaskier barely stopped the gasp that tried to bubble its way through him.  Of what he remembered of his lessons on Lettenhove’s budgets before his presenting as an omega stopped his need to see them, 4000 gold coins was enough to help the people of Lettenhove 10 fold.  “The price, Julian, is you.”  And Jaskier felt his blood run cold.</p><p>“What?”  Jaskier breathed, not believing his Father’s words.  “But why would King Vizimir want with me...I’m an omega.”  Jaskier didn’t understand.  He wasn’t someone who could marry, let alone a King.  Nobles and Kings needed heirs.  Common folk needed heirs.  And a male omega could never provide that.  Could never sire nor birth a child.  It was why Jaskier had been so cemented in his freedom of becoming a bard.  His Father would never find someone who wold willingly marry him.</p><p>“I don’t know.”  His Father said but the look that crossed his Father’s face told Jaskier everything he needed to know.  Jaskier stared at his Father in horror as his mind fixed on the dreadful knowledge of why the King of Redania would want a male omega.  He had seen the leers in Oxenfurt, had heard his Father brush off many nobles wishing to court Jaskier. </p><p>“Father, please.”  Jaskier tried, blue eyes wide in panic.  His Father’s hands squeezed his own and Jaskier felt sudden revulsion of this man who would sell his own son for money.</p><p>“If there was another way Julian.”  His Father said, voice defeated and Jaskier felt like he was falling into a pit of despair.  His Father was giving him away.  “But this will give our people a chance at a better life.  You have to understand that Julian.  Your sacrifice will give Lettenhove a second chance.”  Jaskier didn’t point out that this would never have been necessary if his Father hadn’t gambled away everything Lettenhove had.  Instead he just sat in numbed shock as his Father stood.  “You will be escorted to Redania tomorrow.”</p><p>“Tomorrow.”  Jaskier choked.  So soon.  He should be travelling back to Oxenfurt in a week.  It would be foolish of him to think he would ever see the halls of Oxenfurt again.  His friends, his peers.  Foolish even to think he would ever play his lute again.  Jaskier felt his hands shake as his Father nodded.</p><p>“I truly am sorry Julian.”  As soon as his Father left the room, Jaskier felt the tears finally come.</p><p>On the up side, Jaskier was allowed to take whatever he pleased to Vizimir’s court.  He chose his lute, composition books and other items he had accumulated in his time in Oxenfurt.  His Father came to say goodbye to Jaskier but Jaskier ignored him.  Pain and horror of what his Father had done had quickly turned to anger.  When Jaskier saw the pain in his Father’s face when Jaskier refused to even acknowledge his existence that morning he had thought good.  He deserved to feel a fraction of the betrayal Jaskier felt.</p><p>He had tried to escape.  To run back to Oxenfurt or anywhere, far from the threat of being taken to Redania.  But his Father had put a guard at his door.  When Jaskier had opened his door the night before, packed and ready to leave, the guard had sent Jaskier a warning look, closing the floor on Jaskier’s face when Jaskier took a small step backwards.  Jaskier had cried even more then, his fate sealed.</p><p>A guard had been present by his side since that moment, watching him as if afraid he would run.  In fairness if Jaskier had had the chance he would have done.  The journey to Redania’s capital Tretagor took them a little over 2 weeks and throughout that time Jaskier watched for a single second which he could use to escape.  But it was futile.  The 5 guards his Father had sent with him watched him too closely.  Jaskier tried to speed his horse, Pegasus, away from the guards on the first night.  He got less than a mile from the camp before the guards caught him.  They had ridden with a grip on Pegasus’ reigns every day since.</p><p>As they drew nearer and nearer to Tretagor, Jaskier felt his heart sink further and further.  The anger and pain of being sold slowly faded, turning instead in resignation.  If he must be sold to a King, then Jaskier intended to make the best of his circumstances that he could.</p><p>He was a fool.  A naive, foolish child.</p><p>Jaskier’s guards left him at Redania’s gate, handing him over to the Redanian guards.  They were silent as they escorted him to King Vizimir’s greeting hall.  The hall itself was large, tapestries hanging from each wall of varying colours and scenes.  Jaskier felt himself transfixed on the ornate decorations, curiosity piqued.  King Vizimir himself sat at the end of the hall in a high backed throne.  He wore an elaborate red doublet with strings of gold threaded through.  He was a handsome man, around the same age as Jaskier’s Father.  His brown beard had grey highlighting through it and he was a well muscled tall man.  Jaskier was tempted to say handsome, if not for his eyes.  His dark brown eyes made Jaskier shiver as their intense glare locked on him.</p><p>For his part, Jaskier stood tall, ignoring the murmurs from the court nobles as they looked at the omega standing in the centre of their hall.  Jaskier offered the King a gracious bow, “Thank you for inviting me to your home your grace.”  Jaskier said, preferring to pretend that this had been his choice rather than his Father selling him to this man.  King Vizimir smiled, a perverted sort of thing as he strode forward.</p><p>Jaskier flinched as the man grabbed his jaw, turning it from side to side as he peered at Jaskier.  Jaskier barely resisted the urge to yank away from the King’s grip, to yell at him.  He wasn’t a fool.  He knew if he struggled too much this would end so much worse than it already was.  Not that it wasn’t bad enough.  “How old are you omega?”  Vizimir asked, letting go of Jaskier’s jaw.</p><p>“16 your Grace.”  Jaskier replied, resisting the urge to rub at the now stinging jaw.  The King’s grip had been hard.</p><p>King Vizimir nodded, motioning for 3 serving girls to come over.  “Take him to my chambers.  Bathe him and ready him for me.”  With that the King turned away and left the room.</p><p>One of the maids took Jaskier by the arm, gently tugging him in the direction of the doors leaving the halls.  Jaskier could barely stop himself from shaking as he was escorted down the halls.  Any hope of King Vizimir being kind to him had faded in that one moment.  He had looked at Jaskier as if he was a meal to be enjoyed.  Not a person.</p><p>“Your things will be brought to your rooms.”  The oldest maid said as she directed Jaskier to undress.  Jaskier nodded, thankful at least for the fact that he had his own rooms.  The maids were all a lot older than Jaskier, the oldest being by Jaskier’s estimate 10 years older.  They had motherly looks on their faces and right now they were giving Jaskier looks of guilt and despair.  Not a good sign.</p><p>Jaskier tried to smile as he stood in his small clothes, waiting for the ladies to disappear so he could sit in the steaming bath provided to him and wash.  instead they simply stood and waited.  “I can clean myself.”  Jaskier said quietly.</p><p>The 3 maids all shared a look before nodding.  They didn’t go far, Jaskier could hear their soft voices behind the door as he stripped fully and climbed into the warm bath.  He couldn’t quite make out what they were saying though but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  Dread was filling him as he scrubbed himself clean with the soap provided.  It smelt of roses, the perfume heady and strong enough to make Jaskier gag.  But that was the only soap he had been given and Jaskier didn’t have the nerve to ask for another.  When he as finished scrubbing himself clean and towel drying his now wet hair, he pulled his clothes back on.  He noted that he hadn’t been given fresh ones however.</p><p>Jaskier opened the door, to see the 3 maids standing waiting for him.  Without a word they took him further down the corridor.  As they walked further down the rooms, Jaskier saw the corridor’s becoming more and more ornate.  When they finally stopped outside of a set of gilded golden doors, Jaskier had no doubt whose room this was.</p><p>Heart in mouth, Jaskier followed the maids into the King’s bedroom.  The room was empty save for a large ornate four poster bed.  “Don’t fight him, sir.”  The younger of the 3 maids said, voice low.  Jaskier could barely breath.  He had known what he was here for.  Known when his Father said he was to go to Redania he would be here for this, but to have it solidified was another matter.</p><p>“There is oil in the cabinet.”  The oldest maid said, opening the draw and showing Jaskier a lone bottle.  “We would recommend preparing yourself thoroughly.”  Jaskier gulped, barely fighting back tears.</p><p>He flinched violently when one of the maids started to pull his jacket off.  “I....” Jaskier tried but soon trailed off.</p><p>“King Vizimir won’t require you in clothes sir.”  She said, voice quiet and guilt ridden.  </p><p>“We don’t have to help.  If you strip and pass them through the door we will leave you in peace.”  The maid continued and Jaskier nodded.  He didn’t want these women to see him naked.  Not when he was about to let a man rape him.  One of the maids waited at the door, looking at Jaskier with a sad look on her face.  “I’d suggest lying face down on the bed waiting for him.  And try not to fight.  It will be easier.”</p><p>Jaskier just gulped, watching them leave.</p><p>He stripped out of his clothing with shaking hands, fingers not cooperating as he unlaced his boots.  By the time he was done, Jaskier couldn’t control the full body shivers as he stood fully naked in the large room.  He knocked on the door, passing the clothes through the small gap before turning back to the bed.  They had said to prepare himself.</p><p>Jaskier took the oil in shaking hands, dropping the bottle onto the floor as his shaking hands refused to cooperate.  He had to take a long steadying breath in as he poured a generous coating on his hands.  Jaskier had done this before.  During his heats, when need and want overtook him he had shoved fingers up his arse to relieve the aching need to have something there.  But this was different.  It felt more clinical as he slowly stretched himself open, hoping against hope that he had done enough.</p><p>When Jaskier heard the sound of footsteps coming up the corridor, he felt his breath stutter.  he barely had time to put the oil away and lie facedown on the bed before the door opened.  Jaskier closed his eyes, feeling tears pricking at his face as a hand carded through his hair.</p><p>The grip on his hair tightened, forcing Jaskier’s head back.  “Stand.”  King Vizimir growled.  Jaskier did so, hands shaky as he stood as the King directed.  Vizimir stalked around Jaskier, eyes roaming over every inch of Jaskier.  Taking in the hair on Jaskier’s chest, covering most of it save for the soulmark clearly visible on his chest, down to his flaccid cock.  Jaskier felt humiliation creep through him as he kept his eyes pinned to the ground.  </p><p>“Dandelion.”  Vizimir said, tracing a finger along the outline of Jaskier’s soul mark.  Jaskier flinched at that.  No one should be touching his soul mark save for the person who shared the other half.  Vizimir slapped Jaskier hard across the cheek, Jaskier’s head snapping to the side as he felt blood swell from his lip.</p><p>“Kneel on the bed Dandelion, arse up.”  Vizimir growled.  Jaskier did so, arms and legs shaking as his face pressed into the mattress.  He barely had time to register what was happening before a blunt pressure pressed against his entrance.  Jaskier sobbed as Vizimir pushed himself in, thankful beyond anything that he had had a chance to prepare himself.  Vizimir thrust into Jaskier, ignoring the whimpering sobs of the omega underneath him.  When he was finally done, he pulled himself flush against Jaskier, spurting cum into Jaskier.  Jaskier sobbed at the influx of liquid travelling into him.  When Vizimir backed away, he felt the liquid push outwards, leaking down his thighs.</p><p>And then there was a blunt object pressing at Jaskier’s entrance and Jaskier cried, struggling away from the object.  A sharp hit to his arse made Jaskier still as Vizimir worked something large and solid into his entrance, keeping the cum trapped inside him.  When he finally stepped back, Jaskier collapsed on the bed, sobbing violently.</p><p>Vizimir took a handful of Jaskier’s hair in his hand, pulling Jaskier’s face up so it was close to his.  “You are mine omega.  Mine to do with as I please.”  Jaskier barely registered the words as Vizimir tightened something leather and constricting around his throat.  “Leave.”  Vizimir said, throwing Jaskier from the bed.</p><p>Jaskier sobbed as he felt the plug move inside of him as he staggered out of the Kings rooms.  One of the maids was waiting for him.  She said nothing about his nakedness, instead throwing a shawl over his shoulders and directing him down the corridor.</p><p>“Thank you.”  Jaskier managed as the maid opened a door to what he presumed were his chambers.  She simply nodded, leaving him alone as Jaskier closed the door behind him.</p><p>There was a chamber pot in the corner and a bowl of water and a cloth laid out.  Jaskier soaked the cloth, crouching over the chamber pot.  Sobbing harshly, he tugged at the plug until it was fully out of him.  Cum flooded out of Jaskier’s hole and he found himself sobbing hysterically as he felt the outpouring of the foreign liquid leave him.  The plug dropped to the floor and Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to care as he took the cloth with shaking hands and cleaned the mess on his things and arse as best he could.</p><p>When that was done, he staggered over to the small bed, pressed into the corner of the dingy room.  Wrapping himself in the blankets covering the bed, Jaskier curled into a ball and sobbed until he fell asleep.</p><p>The next morning he was woken to sound of knocking on his door.  It took him a moment to realise where he was until he remembered the night before and the pain in his arse made itself known.  Staggering to his feet, Jaskier grimaced when he realised he was still naked.  The knocking grew louder as Jaskier stumbled to his chest, holding the belongings he brought with him from Lettenhove.</p><p>Jaskier took his prized lute out of the top of the chest, placing it carefully by the side.  And then fought back a sob as he realised every item of clothing he had brought to Redania with him had been removed from the chest.</p><p>The door opened as Jaskier wrapped the shawl the maid had given him the night before around him.  A guard stood at the door, glare fixed on his face as he looked at Jaskier.  “King Vizimir wants you at breakfast.”</p><p>“I have no clothes.”  Jaskier stammered, shame and humiliation flaring in him as he tried to cover himself from the man’s glare.</p><p>The man just shrugged.  “King Vizimir said to bring you naked.”  And Jaskier sobbed.  He couldn’t do this.  He wouldn’t be a toy for this man to parade around.  To taunt and abuse at his pleasure.</p><p>“No.”  Jaskier retorted, glaring fiercely at the guard.  The guard looked at him once before stepping into the room.  He was an alpha, strong and fit from constant sword training.  Jaskier had never been the strongest person so it was laughably easy for the man to subdue him.</p><p>Jaskier cried as the guard grabbed a fistful of Jaskier’s hair, shaking him hard as he clipped a leash to the back of the collar.  With a harsh yank, Jaskier went stumbling onto his knees in front of the man.  The shawl had fallen away, laving Jaskier fully naked in front of the man’s glare.  “Up or I will drag you.”  Jaskier stood on wobbling knees.</p><p>He tried to ignore the stares and snickers of the people they passed in the corridor, eyes pinned firmly to his feet, face aflame in embarrassment as the guard pulled at the leash, all but dragging Jaskier down the corridor.  He was brought into a dining room.  King Vizimir sat at the head of the table.  A woman, his wife Jaskier presumed, sat at his left side, his son and heir seated at his right.  Jaskier noted there were numerous other nobles around the table and a younger boy (the same age as Jaskier and King Vizimir’s youngest son) sat at the table.  None of them batted an eyelid as Jaskier was dragged into the room.</p><p>“Dandelion.  Sit down here.”  Vizimir smiled.  The guard dragged Jaskier towards the man, no one batting an eyelid as Jaskier tried to fight the hold.  “Good boy.”  Vizimir said when the guard had forced Jaskier onto his knees beside the Kings’ chair.  He was knelt between the King and his wife, who took one look at Jaskier with cold eyes before turning away.  Jaskier shivered.  </p><p>“You have no right.”  Jaskier growled as Vizimir stroked through Jaskier’s hair.  Jaskier brought a hand up to slap King Vizimir’s hand away but a sharp pain rocketed through his back.  The guard who had dragged him here had brought down a hard fist onto Jaskier’s back.</p><p>“I have every right Dandelion.  You are mine.”  Vizimir said as if talking to a small child.  “You’ll learn that eventually.”  Vizimir sighed, nodding to the guard.  Jaskier struggled as his hands were forced behind his back, tied tightly with a thick piece of rope.  “Now eat.”  Vizimir said, placing a piece of fruit in his hand and dropping it down to Jaskier’s mouth as if he was a dog.</p><p>Jaskier fumed, teeth biting at the King’s hands.  They grazed his finger, barely a touch.  But it was the first mistake Jaskier had made.  “Foolish pet.”  Vizimir smirked, petting Jaskier’s cheeks softly.  “You’ll soon learn that such behaviour won’t be tolerated.”  With a nod to the guard, Jaskier was dragged to his feet and pushed out of the room.</p><p>He was taken to a small room in the cellar of the castle.  His bound hands were strung up above his head, lifted so his feet barely grazed the ground.  Jaskier felt fear build in him as the guard stood by the door, as if waiting for him.  It felt like Jaskier hung there for hours before King Vizimir strode in.  He went straight to Jaskier, hand trailing down Jaskier’s body to rest on his cock.  Jaskier whimpered as Vizimir slapped the head harshly, breath stuttering as the man’s hands dug into his balls.  “You will learn how to behave Dandelion.”</p><p>“My name isn’t Dandelion.”  Jaskier growled, fighting back tears as Vizimir’s fingers dug painfully into his cock.</p><p>“You are what I call you.  Dandelion.  You will learn obedience.  30 lashes should do the trick.”  Vizimir nodded to the guard.  Jaskier hadn’t noticed before now but he had a horse whip tied to his belt.  He unhooked it, stepping closure to Jaskier as Vizimir took a step back.</p><p>The first lash took Jaskier’s breath away, a sharp line of fire sparking across Jaskier’s back.  The 5th strike broke skin, hot blood gushing down Jaskier’s back.  By the 10th strike Jaskier was begging.  “Please.  Please stop.  I’ll be good.  Please.”  tears and snot ran down his face as another strike was torn through his back.  Jaskier screamed, back arching as best it could when his feet didn’t even touch the ground.</p><p>“I told you you would learn obedience Dandelion.  And you will.”  Vizimir said between the next strike.  When the next one hit Jaskier screamed.</p><p>By the time the 30 lashes had been done, Jaskier was barely conscious.  The guard untied his hands and Jaskier felt himself drop bonelessly to the ground.  His knees cracked painfully to the ground, head hitting the stone flooring enough to send ringing in his ears.  Jaskier barley registered any of that as the pain in his back flared anew.</p><p>“You are mine Dandelion.”  Vizimir said, hands wrapping painfully in Jaskier’s hair, pulling it so Jaskier’s head was forced up to meet the King’s gaze.  He was holding a metal object in his hand, in the shape of a ring.  “Pets do not bite their owners’ Dandelion.  Until you have learnt that lesson, you will not be granted the use of yours.”  Before Jaskier could so much as register the words the metal gag was forced into his mouth, behind his teeth and stretching his jaw wide apart.  Jaskier sobbed, struggling as leather buckles were fastened tightly behind his head. </p><p>Vizimir’s hand released Jaskier’s hair and Jaskier felt his hands clawing at the gag, tears spilling down his face as his fingers met the small lock that kept the gag in place.  Jaskier let out a gut wrenching keen as he collapsed onto the floor.  “Pathetic.”  Vizimir growled, kicking Jaskier in in the ribs.  “Get him cleaned up and brought to my chambers.”</p><p>Jaskier spent the next month with the gag in place.  It was removed once a day long enough for Jaskier to eat, drink and wash his face before being roughly tied back in place.  In that time, Vizimir forced his cock down Jaskiers throat nearly every day.  One evening he fell asleep with his cock down Jaskier’s throat, leaving Jaskier to wake nearly hourly to being choked as the man thrust deeply into him as he slept spewing cum down Jaskier’s throat and forcing him to swallow it.</p><p>When Vizimir finally took the gag off, Jaskier almost sobbed in relief.  “Now, remember pet.  If we ever need it again it’s here.”  Jaskier croaked at this, voice croaky from disuse.  “Good pet.”  Vizimir had purred, stroking Jaskier’s cheek in a parody of a lover.</p><p>Jaskier’s first heat approached 3 months after Jaskier arrived in Redania.  He had felt it coming all week, the urge to nest building in him and he had been petrified.  What Vizimir was willing to do when Jaskier had his facilities was bad enough but when the omega was lost in lust and want and need, the thought sent shivers of fear spidering through Jaskier.</p><p>When the heat began, Vizimir brought Jaskier to a chamber.  It was larger than the Kings bedroom, decorated with numerous armchairs and throws and furs. A large bed sat in the middle of the room, chains attached to the headboard.  Jaskier had wanted to fight it with every part of his being but the heat was already on him, sending his limbs to jelly.  He had sobbed as his wrists were fastened into the metal chains at the top of the bed.  The collar, an ever present fixture on Jaskier since that first night, was leashed to a metal chain at the top of the bed.  When Vizimir had brought out the ring gag, forcing it once more between Jaskier’s teeth, Jaskier had screamed. </p><p>King Vizimir called Jaskier’s heat entertainment.  Jaskier’s first year in Redania was a quiet affair compared to the next few years.  Nobles surrounded the room, taking places on the armchairs and couches as they watched Jaskier sobbing and moaning on the bed.  They all had turns with his mouth and his arse.  The heats themselves where always foggy and Jaskier was so very grateful for that when he woke 3 days later to find himself chained to a bed, covered in cum and piss and blood.  Vizimir was kind.  He let Jaskier have a week off being raped after each heat.</p><p>The only comfort Jaskier gained from King Vizimir’s court was that after the first 6 months, when the King had obviously decided Jaskier wasn’t going to try and run, he was given free reign of the castle.  He spent most of his time away from Vizimir secluded in Tretegor’s massive library.  No one ever came here and Jaskier could lose himself in the stacks.  The embarrassment of walking around a castle naked, most often with a plug inside him keeping Vizimir’s cum trapped within him, vanishing as he walked the expansive library.  He could get lost in the stories and histories here, pretending he was someone else.  Someone other than Dandelion, King Vizimir’s sex slave.  Alive for one purpose and one purpose only, to please the King.</p><p>Jaskier had spent 5 years in Vizimir’s court when the Witcher’s came.  5 years of undeniable agony.  Of being raped daily.  of being paraded naked to a court full of jeering alpha’s and betas.  Of being passed around to sit in different laps as Vizimir entertained, unwanted hands fondling and slapping him in random places.  Of the hated gag being violently shoved into his mouth whenever Vizimir pleased, knowing how much Jaskier feared and hated it.  Of his arse always being plugged full of cum.  5 years of all of that and now salvation was coming.  Jaskier wasn’t a fool.  He knew the Witcher’s left no one alive.  But that didn’t matter to him because if he was dead at least he was free.</p>
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<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Again, please read the tags.  Rape and non con elements discussed</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt had never wanted to be a warlord.  He had never wanted to lead the Witcher’s in battle.  He had been content with his lot in life.  Walking the path, killing monsters for ungrateful humans.  Perhaps it hadn’t been the best life, thrown out of villages without pay more often than not, spat on and called monster.  Butcher.  But he had been content.  It was his lot in life to be a Witcher.  To protect humanity from the monsters that lurked in the shadows.  He had accepted this fact of his life the day he had passed the trial of grasses.</p><p>And then had come the sacking of Kaer Seren, the Witcher school of the Griffin.  It had come as a shock to them all, to learn that Kovir and Poviss Kings had staged a war on the Witcher School.  So much so that they had taken the Witcher’s by surprise, destroying the school and sending the Griffin Witcher’s fleeing to the path.</p><p>Witcher’s of every school had learnt of the sacking of Kaer Seren, resulting in the deaths of over 50 Griffin Witcher’s and 100 of their apprentices.  The survivors, numbered at 100 headed onto the path desperate for aide.  They were appalled.  Appalled and angry that the humans they were sworn to protect against monsters had so effectively turned against the Witcher’s.  So a decision was reached and all Witcher’s were called to Kaer Morhen.</p><p>It was a difficult Winter that Winter, Geralt remembers.  Representatives of every school (Cat, Griffin, Bear, Manticore, Viper, Crane and Wolf) arrived at the beginning of Winter and spent those long 3 months while the winter storms raged along the mouthing pass arguing how best to enact their vengeance.  </p><p>By the end of that winter, some 50 years ago, it was decided.  The Witcher’s would band together to stand against the humans who hated and feared them enough to kill them.  A series of competitions were raged that Spring, each school offering their best fighters and leaders as options for the head of the Witcher’s newly assembled warband.  It had been Eskel and Lambert’s idea to push Geralt into the competition.  He hadn’t wanted to but Vesemir had spoken to him the day before the competitions and told him with utter sincerity that Geralt was the best option for this.  So he had agreed.  And he had won.</p><p>Geralt had defeated every opposing Witcher in combat and was declared the Warlord of the Witcher’s.  The first act was to take Kovir and Poviss as vengeance against the sacking of the Griffin schools attack.  1000 Witcher’s marched down down the path.  Kovir and Poviss hadn’t stood a chance.</p><p>The nobles had holed up in their castles, believing the Witcher’s wouldn’t be able to hold a siege.  They were right.  In terms of the Witcher’s didn’t have the patience for a long siege.  Instead Geralt had a group of 10 cat Witcher’s scale the walls and take the gates.  By the morning the Witcher army was walking in through the capital gates and the King’s head was on a block.  All done, remarkably, with little to no casualties on either side.  Not that the history books ever admitted that.</p><p>10 years later the Witcher’s had overthrown Kaedwen’s King.  The King being foolish enough to try and stage an attack on Kaer Morhen, home of the feared White Wolf Warlord of the Witcher’s.  Geralt had had no choice but to band the Witcher’s together once more and take Kaedwen for their own.</p><p>The taking of Kaedwen had been more complicated, the brotherhood of sorcerers standing against the Witcher’s.  They would have lost, if not for Yennefer of Vengerberg and Triss Merigold.  The 2 sorceresses, long time friends of the Witcher’s (and past lovers of Geralt himself) stood against the brotherhood with the a number of other sorceresses and sorcerers who believed in the good the Witcher’s were doing and were able to take Kaedwen with ease.</p><p>Geralt loved Yennefer.  In so much as he could love anyone who wasn’t his soulmate.  The two were passion combined.  Their love both passion filled and violent.  Two alpha’s in bed together, both seeking dominance over the other was a dangerous mix.  Geralt loved Yennefer with a heady violent passion, not healthy for either of them as pointed out by any one who dared question their relationship.  Both knew that they were not each other’s soulmates.  Both knew that what they had was simply to curb the pain of being without their true soulmate.  And it worked.  The passion Geralt had with Yennefer stopped him thinking of the soul-mark sitting on his chest.  Of the tiny dandelion, looking as if it was blowing in the wind, barely coming up to the height of the wolf’s front leg.</p><p> </p><p>Witcher’s lived a long time.  And even they did not always find their true soulmates.  It didn’t help that those mated to a Witcher most often did not admit or want to admit it.  Most humans were afraid of Witcher’s.  Believing them as monstrous as the monsters they hunted.  Geralt knew Eskel had met his soulmate once.  100 years ago, on the path.  He rarely spoke of it but Geralt had seen the heartbreak in Eskel’s eyes when he had returned the winter after finding her.  Of what Geralt knew from the small things Eskel had let slip, the woman had run from him screaming in horror and fright.  Similar things had happened to other Witcher’s, Geralt knew.  Very few Witcher’s actually got the chance to meet and be loved by their soulmate.  So Geralt had accepted the fact that he would never meet his soul mate.  And even if he did he had accepted his soul mate would never love him.  </p><p>And then 5 years ago Yennefer had refused Geralt’s company in bed.  It was the same time Geralt’s child surprise, Cirilla of Cintra came to Kaer Morhen.  With the death of her Grandmother at the hands of Nilfgaard and her parents death many years prior, the small 5 year old had come to Geralt.  Geralt had led the Witcher’s to Cintra, freeing the country from Nilfgaardian law but not being in time to save Calanthe’s life.  She had demanded that Geralt take Ciri, to honour the law of surprise that Geralt had claimed 5 years ago saving the lie of Ciri’s Father Duny.  Geralt had had no choice.  Perhaps that was for the best because Ciri was the best thing in Geralt’s life.</p><p>Ciri was like the daughter he could never have.  And the same was said of Yennefer.  The two raised Ciri as their own, loving her unconditionally and whole-heartedly.  And that was why Yennefer has stopped coming to Geralt.  She had only ever wanted someone to love her.  She hadn’t wanted Geralt, more the love he offered her.  And now she had that love from Ciri.  A truer and brighter love than she could ever ask for.</p><p> </p><p>.....</p><p>Redania’s King Vizimir had been stupid.  He had decided to overreach himself and try to take a small holding in Kovir belonging to the Witcher’s.  He had killed the whole town, innocents included, in his haste to take the town from the White Wolf.  To take a victory against the so called untouchable Witcher warlord.</p><p>The Witcher’s justice had been swift.  3 weeks since marching to war with Redania, Geralt stood with Eskel and Yennefer either side, 30 Witcher’s fanned behind him and the remaining army of 1000 stood outside the city walls cheering their victory.</p><p>King Vizimir had called his surrender when the Witcher’s had appeared at Tretegor’s city gates, after defeqting the Redania army in just 3 short weeks.  Geralt was here to accept the Kings surrender and to take Redania into the Witcher’s holding officially.</p><p>“Fucking disgusting all this.”  Lambert snorted motioning to the expensive decorations lining the corridor.  Geralt grunted.  They had seen the poverty on the Kings own cities streets and here he was living the life of luxury.  How much would some of these tapestries be worth.  Enough to feed a village for 2 years running, surely.</p><p>The Witcher’s were directed into the Great Hall.  Like the corridors, the hall was richly decorated the remaining nobles standing at the far end of the room dressed in their finery.  The guards had hands on their swords, as if ready to kill the Witcher’s.  Lambert snorted from behind Geralt, twirling his dagger in his hands.  These guards wouldn’t last 2 minutes if they decided to attack them.</p><p>As Geralt walked towards the Dias seating the King of Redania, it wasn’t the King or the nobles or the finery of the room he saw.  No.  All he saw was the omega, knelt beside the King’s throne, collar wrapped around an expanse of white skin, attached to a leash held loosely in the Kings hand.  Tears dotted in the bright blue eyes.  Mouth forced open by a metal gag.  Completely naked with soul mark obvious to the whole room.  A soul mark which matched the white wolf’s completely and utterly.</p><p>Geralt felt overwhelming protectiveness and anger pour through him at the sight.  At the sight of obvious scars littering the omega’s body.  How dare this man.  How dare this man do this to the White Wolf’s mate.</p><p>......</p><p>When the guards had dragged Jaskier from his rooms, to Vizimir’s private rooms that morning Jaskier had been numb.  He had heard that the White Wolf was heading to Tretegor’s gates.  The Witcher’s were coming to take King Vizimir’s lands from him.  Jaskier was glad.  Secretly he hoped that whatever the Witcher’s did to Vizimir was enough to make the man know at least an inch of what Jaskier had suffered these long 5 years.  His body was a pattern work of scars, from repeated whippings and beatings.  He was no longer the innocent child who had been sold to Vizimir.  His innocence had been beaten and raped out of him.</p><p>Vizimir said nothing as Jaskier was brought into his rooms.  Jaskier didn’t need to be told where to lie as he knelt across the bed, available for the King’s use.  “I had a thought Dandelion.”  Vizimir stated, running a hand in a mock show of kindness through Jaskier’s soft brown hair.  He was pushing fingers in and out of Jaskier, Jaskier feeling sick as he felt the squelch of cum fall out of his arsehole only to be pushed back in by Vizimir’s long fingers.  “The Witcher’s are a brutal lot.  Barbaric some would say.  And they’re alpha instincts, some say, make them more animal than man when it comes to sex.”</p><p>Jaskier grunted as Vizimir pushed 3 fingers in, searching for Jaskier’s prostate and rubbing harshly against it.  Jaskier hated these moments most, when his body was stimulated and his cock grew hard against his legs.  He fought back tears as Vizimir pressed harshly against his prostate, hand travelling down to Jaskier’s cock and giving it a half hearted stroke. </p><p>“I hate to give up my favourite toy.”  Vizimir continued, now moving up and down Jaskier’s cock with enough force and pressure to have Jaskier gasping in pleasure even as he cried at how his body betrayed him.  ‘But rather you than lose my life.”  Jaskier’s breath stuttered as cum covered the Kings’ hand.  “Messy slut.  Always so eager.  Lick me clean boy.”  Vizimir growled, pushing cum covered hands into Jaskier’s mouth.  Jaskier was on auto pilot as he licked his own cum off Vizimir’s fingers.</p><p>“Do you think the Witcher’s have ever had an omega before.  I doubt it.  No omega would go willingly into a Witcher's bed but then you are such a good boy.  my good boy.  If I told you would you let them all fuck you.”  Jaskier was silent as tears ran down his face.  Vizimir was hard again, shoving his cock once more into Jaskier’s arse and thrusting deeply.  “Of course you would.  You’ll do anything I tell you.”  Jaskier cried out as Vizimir wrapped his hand tightly in the collar at his throat, cutting off Jaskier’s air supply as he spurted cum once more in jaskier. </p><p>When he finally let go, Jaskier gasped and spluttered, blinking back black spots as Vizimir shoved a plug deeply into his arsehole.  “Good boy.”  Vizimir crooned, petting Jaskier’s arse once.  </p><p>Jaskier didn’t register as Vizimir walked around the other side of him, trying to stifle the fear that welled up at the thought of being passed between the Witcher’s.  He wouldn’t survive it.  He knew that.</p><p>“Open up.”  Vizimir said, appearing at Jaskier’s front.  And Jaskier flinched back violently.  Vizimir gave a tutting noise, wrapping a tight hand in Jaskier’s hair as he used the other to shove the ring gag between Jaskier’s teeth.  “Now now, we need you nice and open for the Witcher’s.  Can’t have you biting them can we.  They might take that the wrong way.”  Jaskier sobbed as Vizimir shoved 2 fingers into Jaskier’s outstretched mouth, capturing Jaskier’s tongue between them.  “Good boy. You stay here while I dress and then we’ll take you to them.  make sure you please them Dandelion.  You might just save my life if you do.”</p><p>......</p><p> </p><p>Geralt looked in anger as he saw the fear in his soul mates eyes.  His mate who was collared and gagged knelt at the feet of a King Geralt was here to overthrow.  Possibly kill.  His vision went red as he saw a tear roll down the omega’s cheek.  His mates cheek.</p><p>Any thought of a treaty or peace with Redania disappeared from Geralt’s mind as he put a hand on his sword.  This man dared to put a hand on his mate.  Dared to hurt him.  He would pay.  They would all pay.</p>
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<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>As always, please read the tags before continuing and I hope you all enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Is that....”. Eskel’s tone was soft from where he stood at Geralt’s side.  Geralt growled low in his throat, hand tightening on his sword.  He didn’t need to look to know the other Witcher’s where in the same position.  They all knew Geralt’s soul mark, has seen it often enough on the white wolf’s chest in the hot springs or training.  They all knew who the omega at King Vizimir’s feet was.  Not that it would have mattered if this was Geralt’s soulmate.  They would have felt the anger at the way the omega was being treated regardless.</p><p>“Like what you see Witcher”. Vizimir called, tugging at the leash binding the omega harshly.  The Witcher’s growled as Geralt’s soulmate was tugged onto hands and knees.  The omega’s head dropped down, hiding the bright blue tear filled eyes.  “A fine specimen.”  Vizimir continued, stroking the omega’s back idly, hand resting firmly on the omega’s backside.  He seemed oblivious to the stares of the Witcher’s.  “You can have him.  All you have to do is leave our lands in peace.  I’ve heard of the Witcher’s insatiable sex drive and I assure you this one can keep up with what you need.”  Vizimir tugged the leash, Geralt’s soul mate choking as the collar tightened around his neck, forcing his head to look at the Witcher’s.</p><p>Geralt drew his sword from the scabbard.  White note rage filled him as his eyes landed on the tear stained face of the omega.  Spit dribbled down the omega’s chin from where it was held open, neck an angry shade of red from Vizimir’s harsh tugs.  Geralt heard the swords of the other 30 Witcher’s being unsheathed.</p><p>“You will not harm any one else.”  Geralt growled, low and angry.  If a man was willing to treat an omega like that.  An omega that barely looked like he was a few years into manhood, then Geralt had no doubt this pathetic excuse for a King was more than willing to cause harm to others.</p><p>“I...You cannot do this.  Guards.  Kill them.”  Vizimir shouted.  He seemed to have forgotten he had hold of the Omega’s leash, or just didn’t care, as when he stood up, hand holding the leash tugging upwards, the omega choked blue eyes going wide as his airway was cut off.  Geralt watched in anger as the omega struggled onto feet, lurching at Vizimir’s side as the man holding the leash used that hand to gesture wildly at the guards around him.</p><p>“I’m going to fucking enjoy this.”  Lambert growled, earning an answering chuckle from Aidan at his side.  Geralt grunted, parrying the first blow that came from the guards.  It was laughably easy for the Witcher’s to dispatch King Vizimir’s guards.</p><p>Geralt pushed through the guards standing protectively in front of the nobles.  Knowing the other Witcher’s and Yennefer could handle the remaining guards, Geralt stormed forwards, blade bloody as he sought out Vizimir.  Most of the nobles had run from the room, very few remaining.  But Vizimir had remained.  Or rather was being forced to remain.  Geralt felt a burst of pride at the sight before him.  The omega was grappling with the leash the King held, trying to free himself from the vice like grip Vizimir had on the leash.  </p><p>“You useless stupid fucking slut.  Move.”  Vizimir shrieked at the omega.  Geralt felt anger burst through him as Vizimir tugged harshly at the leash, sending the omega sprawling onto the floor.  Geralt’s soul mate cried out in pain, tears running down his face as the King dragged him along.  “Get up.  Move.  You have to move or they’ll kill me.” Geralt idily thought that the King mustn’t be very smart.  If he was he would have dropped the leash and ran, not try and drag his slave with him.</p><p>Vizimir sent a violent kick to the omega, sending Geralt’s soul mate sprawling onto the floor, clutching at his stomach in agony.  Geralt stalked towards, sword outstretched and anger blazing in him.  “Leave him be.”  Geralt yelled.  Vizimir turned to face him, eyes ablaze with fury.</p><p>“Stay away monster.  He is mine to do with as I please.  I fucking paid for him.”  Vizimir growled, fisting a hand harshly into the omega’s hair.  The omega sobbed as he was pulled up by the hair, Vizimir’s grip on the leash choking the omega.  He pulled a knife from somewhere, holding it close to the omega’s throat.</p><p>“Let him go.”  Geralt growled.  The sound of fighting had stopped now and Geralt knew the Witcher’s were spread across the hall, all 30 pairs of amber eyes glaring at this King.  </p><p>“Let me free.”  Vizimir suddenly said, eyes darting across the Witcher’s, fear obvious in the stench coating him.  “Let me free and you can have him.”</p><p>Before Geralt could say anything though, the omega pulled his elbow back and shoved it straight into the King’s stomach behind him.  Geralt felt a welling of pride go through him as King Vizimir doubled over in pain, knife clattering to the floor.  It only lasted a moment though as anger flashed across his face, hand clutching at the leash that he had dropped.  Before he could get hold of it though the omega had darted out of the King’s reach.</p><p>Geralt had his sword pressed against the King’s chest before the man could even stagger to his feet.  With a growl of anger, Geralt shoved the blade clean through Vizimir’s body.  The King let out a gargled breath and collapsed against the sword.  Dead.  Geralt pulled his sword away, causing Vizimir’s dead body to drop to the floor.</p><p>Turning, Geralt came face to face with the shaking omega.  The omega had picked up a sword dropped by one of King Vizimir’s dead guards.  His hands shook and he could barely hold the sword in the two handed grasp he had it in but he kept it directly pointed at Geralt.  The stench of fear permenated Geralt but there was a smell of determination, mirrored by the glint in the omega’s bright blue eyes.  Geralt dropped his sword, holding his hands up slowly as he walked forwards so the sword point rested directly on his chest.</p><p>He heard Lambert curse from behind him but he ignored him.  This was his soulmate.  Geralt would not fight him.  “I don’t want to hurt you.”  Geralt growled, wincing because he knew his voice didn’t sound anything but intimidating.  The omega just continued to stare at him, tears streaming down his face as his whole body shook.  He might have said something if the gag had allowed it.  The leash hung down the omega’s back, swinging on the floor and Geralt hoped the omega didn’t make any sudden movements and stand on it, choking himself.  “We can get those off you.”  Geralt promised, motioning to the gag and collar.  The omega sobbed against the gag, eyes darting between Geralt and the other Witcher’s and Yennefer.  “We can get you help.”</p><p>Slowly, the omega lowered the sword.  It clanged to floor as it fell from his hands.  Shaking arms wrapped themselves over the lithe body.  Geralt noted suddenly that his mate was stark naked, every part of him on show for the world to see.  Without thinking, Geralt unstrapped his swords and shrugged out of his armoured doublet leaving him standing in only his shirt, causing the omega to flinch violently at the sudden movements.  “For you.”  Geralt said, voice gruff as he slowly handed it to the omega. </p><p>The omega turned confused tear filled blue eyes onto Geralt, hand shaking as he took the offered garment.  Geralt winced when the omega’s arm dipped at the unexpected weight of it.  It was too heavy for him.  But that didn’t seem to matter as the omega wrapped it around his shoulders.  It covered him down to mid thigh and Geralt only now realised his soul mate was perhaps only a few inches shorter than himself.  Geralt’s armoured doublet swamped him, even if it was only slightly too long.</p><p>“May I?”  Geralt asked, voice quiet as he motioned to the gag buckled at the back of the omega’s head.  Distantly Geralt was aware the room was nearly empty, only Yennefer, Eskel and Lambert remaining.  The omega nodded slowly.  He was still shaking as Geralt moved to the back of him.  The gag was locked with a small lock at the back.  “Yenn?”  Geralt called as he realised he didn’t have the key.  He could snap the lock but it would most likely hurt his soulmate.  Yennefer’s magic would remove the lock without causing his soulmate any further harm.</p><p>The omega flinched violently once more as Yennefer walked slowly towards them.  “It’s ok.”  Geralt murmured, trying to offer comfort in the way he would Ciri when she came to him after a bad dream.  It was strange.  Geralt wasn’t a man who would often offer kindness or comfort but he wanted to with this omega.  He wanted to wrap his soulmate in his arms and protect him from every evil thing that had been done to him.</p><p>“I’m going to remove the lock.”  Yennefer’s voice took on the tone she may have done when talking to Ciri as she placed a gentle hand on the lock.  Geralt felt her gather chaos to herself before hearing the sound of metal breaking in her grip.  As soon as the lock was gone, the omega flung his arms behind his head, fingers scrabbling at the buckles.  Geralt’s armoured doublet had fallen from his shoulders in the movement, leaving the omega once more naked.</p><p>“Shh.”  Geralt hushed as the omega sobbed when his fingers wouldn’t work the buckles.  “I’ve got it.”  The omega shook as Geralt gently undid the buckles.  As soon as the leather was undone enough for the gag to be removed, the omega ripped the gag from his teeth, flinging it as far from him as possible.</p><p>“The collar now.”  Yennefer asked quietly, Geralt picking up his armoured doublet and placed it gently onto the omega’s shoulders.  Blue eyes looked up at Geralt, confusion and pain flashing across them as he allowed Geralt to wrap the garment around his shoulders.</p><p>Yennefer’s repeated the same motion with the lock at the back of the collar.  This time the omega was calmer as he took the collar from around his neck with shaking movements.  His eyes showed disbelief as the leather item dropped form his shaking hands.</p><p> </p><p>“What...”. The omega paused, voice croaky and jaw stiff.  He worked his jaw open and closed a few times before continuing.  “What’s going to happen to me?”  His blue eyes looking at Geralt with confusion and fear within them.</p><p>“We’ll take you to Kaer Morhen.”  Geralt said gruffly.  “When you’re ready we will take you somewhere safe.”  Geralt wanted nothing more than for the omega, his soulmate, to remain in Kaer Morhen but he had no delusions.  When the omega was recovered from his ordeal he wouldn’t want to be anywhere near the Witcher’s.  Geralt.</p><p>“I...I...Please don’t make.”  The omega suddenly said, voice quiet and broken.  To Geralt’s horror, the omega collapsed onto his knees, Geralt’s doublet wrapped firmly around his shoulders.  His lithe frame wracked as a sob tore through the omega’s body.  “I can’t. Not again.  Please.  Just kill me.”</p><p>Geralt looked up at Yennefer, panic flashing through him.  ‘He thinks the Witcher’s are going to use him as Vizimir did.’  Yennefer’s voice flashed in Geralt’s mind.  Mind numbing anger flashed across Geralt.  He wished he hadn’t killed Vizimir.  Wished he’d had the chance to make him suffer for what he had done to Geralt’s soul mate.</p><p>“We are not going to hurt you.”  Geralt said, dropping to his knees.  The omega’s blue eyes lifted upwards.  Geralt felt like he had been punched when he saw the level of pain and sadness in those cornflower blue depths.  “I swear to you.  No one will ever touch you again.  Not unless you ask for it.”</p><p>“You mean it?”  The omega looked at Geralt with wide blue eyes, his voice betraying the hope he was probably trying not to feel.</p><p>“I swear it.”  Geralt promised.  The omega was quiet for a moment before nodding.  “Do you have any clothes.  Anything you want to bring?”  Geralt didn’t expect the omega to say yes so when the omega slowly nodded his head Geralt was surprised.</p><p>“My lute.”  Geralt nodded.  “I...I don’t have any clothes.”  The omega’s face flushed in embarrasssment, eyes dropping to the floor.  </p><p>“Eskel and Lambert will find you clothes.”  Geralt said.  Eskel and Lambert grunted from behind Geralt.  “We can get your lute now.  They can bring the clothes to you there.” </p><p>The omega nodded, getting to his feet.  He was still shaking and Geralt had the sudden urge to put out a steadying hand to help the omega but he resisted, knowing his touch would not be welcome.  As the omega stood, turned slightly away from Geralt, Geralt’s armoured doublet rose up so his arse was on display to the room.  Geralt growled in anger when he saw a thick bulbous object settled between the omegas cheeks.  The omega flinched at the growl, turning so his arse was facing away from Geralt, doublet firmly covering the foreign object Vizimir had shoved into him.  The omega didn’t seem bothered by it which only made Geralt’s anger grow.  He was obviously used to it.  How many times had that man, that pathetic excuse for a King and an alpha, forced that disgusting object between the omega’s cheeks.  “We can take that out.”</p><p>“No.”  The omega said, fright obvious in his voice as he shuffled backwards away from Geralt.  “I can.  When we get to my room.  I’ll clean myself up.  I’ll take it out.”  Geralt nodded, shame bubbling through him.  Of course the omega wouldn’t want Geralt to take it out.  He wouldn’t want an alpha touching him when he had spent God knew how long being raped by Vizimir.</p><p>“Ok.  Lead the way.” Geralt growled, wanting to get the omega somewhere he felt safe so he could get that accursed thing out of him as soon as possible.  The omega seemed a little startled at the sudden shift in proceedings but nodded all the same, leading Geralt and Yennefer down the corridors.  Lambert and Eskel had disappeared to find the omega clothes.</p><p>When the omega stopped outside of a small wooden door, close to the kitchens, Geralt was barely controlling his anger. The omega walked with his head down, a limp to his gait as if he was in pain.  Of course he was in pain, Geralt growled at himself.  The omega had been raped repeatedly, had a foreign object stuffed inside of him, keeping all manners of disgusting liquids inside of him.  Geralt could barely control the anger as the omega put a hand on the door.</p><p>“I never got your name.”  The omega suddenly said, bright blue eyes glancing at Geralt and Yennefer.  A mixture of fear and curiosity warred in that expression.  The omega had ducked his head, eyes downcast and body tensing as if expecting a blow.  How many times had he been struck for asking a simple question.  For showing any hint of curiosity.</p><p>“Geralt.”  Geralt growled, barely containing the rage coursing through him.  Yennefer glared at him before softening her gaze for the omega.</p><p>“Yennefer of Vengerberg.  Excuse Geralt, he isn’t the most vocal.”  The omega snorted a laugh before eyes widened in horror, body tensing once more.  Yennefer just smiled, “It’s ok, no one’s going to hurt you.”  The omega was tense for a moment longer before visibly forcing himself to loosen his muscles.  Geralt felt a wash of pride run through him.  Even broken, his soulmate showed the steel in his spine.  “May we ask your name?”  Yennefer asked.</p><p>“King Vizimir called me Dandelion.”  The omega said, flinching harshly at the name.</p><p>“What do you want us to call you?”  Yennefer asked, voice soft.  </p><p>“Jask...Julian.  My name’s Julian.”  Julian said, blue eyes landing on Geralt’s own amber ones for a moment before ducking away.  “I need to get clean.”  Julian murmured before darting into the rooms, slamming the door behind him.  Geralt heard the audible click of the lock as Julian disappeared from there sight.  Julian.  Geralt’s soul mates name.  A name he never thought he would ever learn.</p><p> </p><p>......</p><p>Jaskier collapsed against the locked door, shoving his fist in his mouth as he stifled the sob wracking through his body.  He didn’t understand what was happening.  He had fully expected to be killed.  He had mentally prepared himself to be passed between the Witcher’s.  Had prepared himself to be raped bloody before death as Vizimir laughed.</p><p>And then the Witcher’s had entered the great hall, all 30 of the most intimidating alpha’s Jaskier had ever seen.  A sorceress of extraordinary beauty stood on the right side of the Witcher's warlord.  The White Wolf.  And Jaskier had felt his breath stutter in his chest.  The white wolf stirred something in Jaskier’s heart.  Something he had never ever expected to feel again.  Hope.  Hope and longing.  The fierce gaze of the warlord, settling on Jaskier’s naked form kneeling at the side of King Vizimir had made Jaskier’s heart beat faster in his chest.  </p><p>And then chaos had raged.  Jaskier barely registered the fighting, the death of Vizimir’s guards, to busy being dragged and choked by the man.  And Jaskier had refused to move.  He had made a choice.  The Witcher’s were here to kill Vizimir and most likely Jaskier and Jaskier would be damned if he let himself die a slave.  So he fought Vizimir as he never had before, struggling with the leash, desperate for his freedom.  And when Vizimir had dragged Jaskier against his chest, blade at Jaskier’s throat Jaskier had let all the anger he had felt for all these years bubble up.  He had punched Vizimir, struggling out of his grasp, uncaring if the blade sliced his neck or not.  Jaskier couldn’t bare to be held by that man any longer.</p><p>And now Vizimir was dead.  The white wolf, Geralt, had killed him.  Jaskier hated how fear had overtaken him when Vizimir had died.  Hated that his mind had immediately thought the worst of this kind, caring Witcher who had so gently freed Jaskier of his gag and collar.  Who had given Jaskier the clothes from his own back so Jaskier could have a small modicum of modesty.  Who had shown more kindness to Jaskier in those 5 minutes than Jaskier had received in 5 years.</p><p>And how had Jaskier repaid him, by flinching at his every movement.  By pouring a sword at his chest. By  sobbing and crying.  By not even giving Geralt his true name, Jaskier.  Jaskier had wanted to tell Geralt his name was Jaskier, that was the name Jaskier had chosen for himself all those years ago in Oxenfurt, a lifetime ago.  But he hadn’t been able to.  Fear had raced through his heart as he expected the worst because no matter how kind someone was Jaskier had learnt in the last 5 years to expect the very worst from even the kindest of person.  It didn’t matter that deep down Jaskier knew, he knew with terrifying clarity, that Geralt would never hurt him.  None of that mattered because Jaskier’s mind refused to accept he was safe.  That he was finally free.  So instead Jaskier had given Geralt the name Julian. Because if it turned out he was wrong and Geralt had lied, then he would not allow anyone to use his name in the same way Vizimir had used Dandelion.</p><p>Jaskier lifted a shaking hand to his neck.  The collar was gone.  The visible sign of Jaskier’s status as Vizimir’s slave was gone.  The collar hadn’t been removed for 5 years and Jaskier’s neck felt bare without it.  It was a strange sensation, Jaskier’s body so used to something being there that the cold air on his neck had Jaskier choking back a hysterical laugh.</p><p>Standing on shaking feet, Jaskier moved over to the small bowl of water he always kept in his rooms.  Squatting over the chamber pot in a way he had done for years now, Jaskier worked the plug free of his arse.  He sobbed as liquid freed itself.  Jaskier took a wet cloth from the bowl, fingers still shaking as he cleaned himself.  This was the last time.  If the White Wolf’s words were true, which Jaskier believed whole heartedly that they were even if his mind still wouldn't full accept it, this was the last time he would ever have to do this.  He was free.  He was finally free.</p><p>.....</p><p>“You ok?”  Eskel grunted as he and Lambert walked down the corridor to where Geralt and Yennefer stood guarding Julian’s door.</p><p>Geralt just grunted, ears straining as he listened to the quiet sobs of Julian behind the closed door.  “I can’t fucking believe it.”  Lambert growled.  “No one can.  Bastards the lot of them.  Wish we could kill ‘em again.  Make them suffer.”  Geralt growled in agreement.</p><p>“His name’s Julian.” Geralt said after a moment.  Fucking hell.  Geralt had met his mate.  His soulmate who had lived through some of the most horrendous things Geralt had ever seen.  Fuck Vizimir.  Fuck Redania.  If it would help his soulmate, Geralt would burn this whole fucking city to the ground.</p><p>“Julian.”  Eskel said, scar moving on his face as he smiled, clapping a hand on Geralt’s shoulder.m before his face turned serious once more.  “Is he ok?”  Geralt shrugged.  How could Julian be fine after everything.  He had suffered more than anyone deserved to.  There was no physical way Julian was fine.</p><p>“Clothes.”  Geralt grunted, taking the offered items from Eskel’s hand and knocking softly on the door.</p><p>......</p><p>The knock on the door pulled Jaskier from his thoughts.  He placed the cloth back on the side and went to the door.  He didn’t open it.  Couldn’t bring himself to until he knew who it was.  “There’s clothes here.”  Geralt’s gruff voice filtered through the locked door.</p><p>Quickly, Jaskier unlocked the door, fear that if he wasn’t fast enough the clothing would be taken from him before he could even put them on.  Jaskier opened the door only enough for Geralt to hand the clothes through before shutting the door and locking it. </p><p>A pair of dark brown breeches, a dark brown doublet, plain white chemise, small clothes and boots.  No where near as fancy and elaborate as Jaskier had worn in Oxenfurt but clothes all the same.  it had been 5 years since Jaskier had worn clothes and as he pulled on the small clothes and breeches he felt like sandpaper was running over his skin.  The chemise felt strangely heavy on his body as Jaskier shrugged the doublet on.  It was strange.  The embarrassment of being naked every day for 5 years and now Jaskier finally had clothes to wear and he felt like he was being suffocated by their confines.  But he didn’t care.  As Jaskier fastened the doublet and pulled the boots on he felt a smile press on his face.  He wasn’t just a thing anymore.  A toy, a pet, Dandelion, would never wear clothes.  Would never have that luxury.  Which meant he wasn’t that anymore.  He was a person again.  He was Jaskier.</p><p>Jaskier picked his lute up with shaking hands, body shaking from emotion rather than fear now.  His lute.  The one item he couldn’t bear to leave behind.  He had barely played it these last 5 years.  The music unwilling to come to his hands when the despair of his situation weighed so heavily on his heart.  Jaskier had tuned it weekly, made sure the lute was still playable even if he couldn’t bring himself to play the sweet tunes he had always loved.  Even if he couldn’t compose as he so desperately loved.  Now though.  Now perhaps he could again.</p><p>Geralt’s doublet lay on the floor of Jaskier’s old room.  hesitantly he picked it up, folding it gently across his arm as he went towards the door.</p><p>As Jaskier opened the door, he was met with the surprised looks of 3 Witcher’s and one sorceress.  “Not exactly your style, flower.”  Yennefer snarked as her violet eyes settled on Jaksier.</p><p>“It’s the best we could do.”  The scarred Witcher shrugged.  “Eskel.”  He held out a hand for Jaskier who took it.  Eskel didn’t pay attention to the way Jaskier’s hand shook in the grip as he shook it.  “And this shit head over there is Lambert.”</p><p>“Fuck off.”  The shorter haired Witcher’s growled, whacking Eskel over the head.  Or at least tried to, Eskel dodged from the blow with acrobatic ease.  Jaskier felt a hesitant smile appear on his face at the antics.  Perhaps these Witcher’s were gruff and hard on the outside but they appeared for the time being to be kind and generous people.  Even as Jaskier thought this his traitors mind reminded Jaskier not to get to attached.  Not to let his guard down.  Not to let himself hope.  Jaskier had seen the dregs of humanity in the last 5 years as King Vizimir’s slave and he was all too aware of how quickly laughing and banter could turn into inscrutable pain.</p><p>“Thank you.”  Jaskier murmured as Eskel, Lambert and Yennefer headed up the corridor.  Geralt frowned as Jaskier handed him back his doublet.  Amber eyes intense as he took the garment from Jaskier’s fingers.</p><p>“Don’t thank me for something that is your right.”  Geralt growled.  Jaskier looked at Geralt for a long second, confusion running through him.  What did Geralt mean by those words.  That Jaskier had a right somehow to the White Wolf’s clothing.  His kindness.  Geralt seemed to shake himself, grunting as he shrugged the jacket on.  “Come on.  Yenn won’t keep the portal open forever.”</p><p>As Jaskier followed Geralt through the corridors of King Vizimir’s halls he felt a weight slowly start to lift.  He had no idea what awaited him at the Witcher’s keep but one thing was for certain.  He would never ever have to set foot in these accursed halls again.  And for the time being Jaskier was free.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sick dizziness wrapped around Jaskier as he stepped through the portal Yennefer had created.  He stumbled and then flinched as Geralt’s arm wrapped gently around his bicep.  At the flinch, the Witcher removed his hand from Jaskier’s arm guilt flashing in those amber eyes.  And that just made Jaskier feel guilty because Geralt had only been trying to steady Jaskier as the dizziness and sickness of portal travel had the omega stumbling.</p><p>Jaskier went to offer Geralt a soft smile but before he could his eyes landed on the place the portal had taken them to.  Kaer Morhen, the home of the White Wolf, warlord of the Witcher’s. The warlord who was currently standing next to Jaskier, face full of concern as he watched the omega take in the sights surrounding them.  The castle stood above them, an imposing dark castle.  It wasn’t yet winter but the cold in the air still caused Jaskier to shiver in the doublet and breeches that still felt foreign on Jaskier’s skin.  Distantly he was glad the Witcher’s had given him clothes, he would freeze to death if he was forced to go around naked here.  But even as he thought this he tried to ignore the fear that thought brought.  Geralt had promised no one would touch Jaskier and while the omega didn’t yet know if could fully trust the white wolf, Geralt hadn’t given Jaskier reason yet to make him not trust those words.</p><p>“A lot isn’t it.”  Geralt growled from his side.  Jaskier nodded softly, eyes taking in the sight of over a 100 Witcher’s.  They all wore armour, clapping each other on the back as they made their way towards the castle.  “We only ever have a 100 Witcher’s or so at any one time.”  Geralt continued, voice soft as he saw where Jaskier was looking.  “The rest stay to their own schools or travel the path.  We’ll be getting a few more Witcher’s by the time Winter is here.”</p><p>Jaskier wondered how many Geralt meant by a few more.  100 Witcher’s was already an intimidating thing.  But the fact that they were Witcher’s wasn’t what had Jaskier swallowing down the irrational fear.  It was the fact that each and every one of the Witcher’s were not just alpha’s but built like fucking bricks.  If they chose they could pin Jaskier down and take what they wanted from him.  Turning him back into nothing more than Dandelion with a few rough fists.</p><p>“No one will hurt you.”  Geralt grumbled as if reading Jaskier’s mind.  Jaskier flushed in embarrassment at the words.  It wasn’t fair for Geralt to have to keep reminding Jaskier of something he should already know.</p><p>Before Jaskier could say anything, a small shape with wild ash blonde hair ran at Geralt.  Geralt laughed, actually laughed and Jaskier hated to admit but that deep grating sound sent tendrils of affection running through his spine, what he wouldn’t give to hear that laugh again.  The girl launched herself at Geralt who caught her with ease, swinging her around as her small arms wrapped around his neck.  Jaskier felt some of the fear he had been holding onto evaporate as he watched Geralt’s face transform into a happy kind loving smile.</p><p>“I missed you.”  The girl announced, grinning madly as she buried her face into Geralt’s neck.</p><p>“Missed you to pup.”  Geralt growled, hugging her tightly.  Jaskier felt like he was intruding in on a private moment so he averted his eyes, only to come face to face with a group of Witcher’s walking towards them.</p><p>A grey haired Witcher, walked between Eskel and Lambert.  Yennefer and a brown haired woman (who Jaskier guessed was a sorceress simply from the fact that no mortal human woman could look so extraordinarily beautiful).  The grey haired Witcher was frowning at Jaskier and Jaskier felt himself shiver under the look, ducking his head downwards.  </p><p>“Geralt.”  The grey haired Witcher greeted as the girl finally let Geralt free.  She appeared at Yennefer’s side, holding the sorceress' hand.  Yennefer had a soft smile on her face and Jaskier distantly wondered if this was her and Geralt’s daughter.  Which didn’t make any sense because everyone knew Witcher’s where infertile.  But then, everyone knew Witcher’s didn’t leave anyone alive and had an unquenchable sexual appetite but so far Jaskier had been shown only kindness from the Witcher’s.  Perhaps not everything he knew of them was true.</p><p>“Vesemir.”  Geralt grunted, giving the older man a hug.  Jaskier had to force himself not to flinch.  Vesemir.  It sounded so much like Vizimir in Jaskier’s mind.  But Vizimir was dead.  He would never again hold sway over Jaskier’s life.</p><p>“Who is this?”  Vesemir asked, turning amber eyes to Jaskier.  His were a deeper shade than Geralt’s and they held a kind glint to them.  If Jaskier forced past his fears he could see the fatherly expression in Vesemir’s face.</p><p>“Julian Alfred Pankratz, sir Witcher.”  Jaskier offered, pushing away the fear as he offered a bow to the man.  He might have made a terrible impression on Geralt and the other Witcher’s but perhaps he could try to gain some of his dignity back with how he acted now.</p><p>Vesemir looked surprised at this and Jaskier distantly wondered what Eskel, Lambert and Yennefer had told him of Jaskier’s situation.  But he didn’t remain flummoxed for long, offering Jaskier a genuine smile and holding out his hand.  “Vesemir.  Please to meet you.”  Jaskier took the hand, visibly having to stop himself tensing up as those strong fingers enclosed his hand.  How easy would it be for him to hold Jaskier down.  Very.  Those hands, like all Witcher’s hands, were strong.  Stronger than Vizimir’s had ever been and he had had little difficulty in subduing Jaskier.</p><p>Jaskier forced himself to smile as Vesemir let go of his hand.  The brown haired Sorceress appeared in front of Jaskier next, a warm smile plastered on her face.  Jaskier felt his smile relax as he took her hand.  “Triss Merigold.  Welcome to Kaer Morhen.”</p><p>“Thank you.”  Jaskier smiled.  Triss’ smile was warm and her eyes kind as she looked at Jaskier.  It brought Jaskier in mind of the kind older maids who had tried to help Jaskier in anyway they could.  Always ensuring he had fresh water to wash himself clean.  Offering him kind smiles as they passed him in the hallway.  Giving him extra food whenever they could without Vizimir finding out.  The shawl they had given Jaskier that first night.  Tiny things but to Jaskier they had been the only kindness he had received in 5 long years.  </p><p>“I’m Ciri.”  The little girl from before bounced up next to Triss.  Jaskier found himself smiling fully now as he smiled at the girl.  Her emerald eyes sparkled in the light and Jaskier offered her a bow in greeting.</p><p>“A pleasure to meet you Lady Ciri.”  Ciri giggled as Jaskier stood up and Jaskier felt some of the tension slowly leak away from him.</p><p>“We can show you to your rooms.”  Eskel grunted.  Jaskier felt the edges of his smile turn brittle at the reminder of the Witcher’s behind him but he forced the fear that threatened to overwhelm him down.  He was safe here.  They wouldn’t hurt him.  It was fast becoming a mantra in Jaskier’s head as he turned to face Eskel and by extension Geralt.</p><p>Geralt was watching Jaskier with a frown on his face.  A mixture of worry and affection flashing across his features.  Jaskier couldn’t understand it.  Couldn’t understand Geralt.  “Please.”</p><p>“Can I come with you, Julian?”  Ciri asked, hand wrapping around Jaskier’s hand and the omega didn’t mean to but he flinched violently at the unexpected touch.  Ciri dropped his hand, emerald eyes going wide as she looked at Jaskier with a hurt look in her eyes.  Jaskier immediately felt guilty and tried to brush it off with a smile that felt all too forced.</p><p>“How about we leave Julian to it.  He’s tired from his journey.”  Yennefer said, resting a hand on Ciri’s shoulder.</p><p>“And you still need to show Yennefer what you’ve learnt while she was gone.”  Triss said.  The two sorceresses easily moved Ciri towards Kaer Morhen, Ciri having forgotten Jaskier’s flinch and happily talking between them.</p><p>“This way.” Geralt grunted, hand lifting as if to touch Jaskier before dropping back.  Jaskier nodded, hand going absent mindlessly to the lute strapped to his back.  </p><p>The corridor’s of Kaer Morhen were nothing like Tretegor.  They were devoid of the bright colourful tapestries that had so enthralled Jaskier when he first arrived at King Vizimir’s castle.  Instead Kaer Morhen was a dark place, with a lot of steps and narrow corridors.  Geralt stopped outside of a large oaken door, pushing it open softly.  “These are usually reserved for guests but they’re yours now.”  Geralt grunted before turning on his heel to leave Jaskier alone.</p><p>“Thank you.”  Jaskier shouted before he lost his nerve.  Geralt turned back, amber eyes flashing in surprise.  “I mean...thank you.  For everything.  All of this.  You didn’t have to.”  Jaskier wasn’t a fool. Anyone else would have seen Jaskier bound as he was and knelt at the Kings side and left him there, in the best case.  Worst case scenario Jaskier would have been forced into servitude of another cruel master like Vizimir or even passed around the soldiers, until he either died or satisfied the men’s never ending lust.</p><p>“It was the right thing to do.”  Geralt grunted, eyes looking at Jaskier once before dropping down.  “Dinner is in the Great Hall at 7.  You don’t have to come down but if you do there’s a seat at the table for you.”  And before Jaskier could say another word he had disappeared back down the corridor.</p><p>Jaskier pushed the door open, eyes roaming around the room.  There was a large bed sat in the corner, blankets and furs piled to keep the cold draft out.  A large fire place already burning hotly stood at the back of the room.  Placing the door lock in place, Jaskier walked over, hands outstretched as he felt the warmth float into him.  He’d never had a fire in Redania.  Vizimir guessing, correctly, that if Jaskier was given an object as dangerous as fire he may try and harm himself with it.  Jaskier hasn’t bothered to deny it.  He had contemplated numerous times his own death.  How he could wrap the bed sheets around his neck and hang himself.  The only real thing that had stopped him was the soul mark on Jaskier’s chest.  The stupid romantic notion that Jaskier had never truly lost even on his darker days that one day his soulmate would find him and save him.  Well, someone had saved him.  Even if it wasn’t his soulmate at least Jaskier was finally free.</p><p>And at that thought Jaskier felt something finally break in him.  A sob wracked through Jaskier’s frame as he wrapped hands around himself.  it was too much.  It was all just too much.  All those years of pain, torment of being raped every fucking day.  And now he was free.  The feeling was so overwhelming and Jaskier found himself moving to the bed and wrapping himself into the soft furs.  He curled into a ball, burying his head into the pillow as he cried.  Cried as he hadn’t done since the first time Vizimir raped him.  He’d spent 5 years bottling up every single painful memory, every single painful emotion.  And now they were finally breaking free and Jaskier couldn’t control the heart wrenching sobs wracking through his whole body.  At some point Jaskier felt his vision dim as sleep claimed him.</p><p>......</p><p>“Julian Alfred Pankratz.”  Vesemir stated, eyes fixed on Geralt, sympathy and pain clear in his gaze.  Geralt had entered the small council room  after leaving Jaskier in his rooms to find Vesemir waiting for him.  “He’s not what I expected?”  Vesemir sighed, eyes turning to the fire.</p><p>“Me either.”  Geralt grunted.  He didn’t know what he expected of his soul mate.  He didn’t know if he expected them to be tough and strong, or feminine and gentle.  All he knew was that he had never expected to find them as a sex slave to a perverted King.  “Fuck.”  Geralt growled, anger coursing through him.  Julian had looked so scared.  So fucking scared and so fucking innocent with those big blue eyes.  How could anyone do that to someone who looked like that.</p><p>“He’ll be safe here.”  Vesemir assured Geralt and Geralt nodded.  He didn’t need the assurance.  He knew Julian would be safe here.  If anyone so much as looked at Julian wrong Geralt would tear them apart.</p><p>“He doesn’t know.”  Geralt growled.  He had wanted to tell him.  Wanted Julian to know who Geralt was.  But the coward that he was, Geralt couldn’t.  He couldn’t bring himself to cause Julian anymore pain.  Because it would hurt the omega to find out his soulmate was a Witcher.  A monster.  “I can’t tell him.  He’s already been hurt too much.”</p><p>Vesemir placed a hand on Geralt’s shoulder, squeezing gently.  “Not all Witcher soulmates look at us in disgust you know.”  The older Witcher’s eyes took on a soft look as he spoke.  “Mine didn’t.  She loved me as much as I loved her.”  Geralt had never heard Vesemir speak of his soulmate, always presuming the old Witcher had never met her or had met the same fate as Eskel when the scarred Witcher had met his own soulmate.  “She didn’t run from me.  She cared for me and loved me.  The only regret I had was that I couldn’t spend every moment with her.  We were still on the path then.  If I had met her now I could have stayed with her, brought her to Kaer Morhen.”  Vesemir was silent for a short time.  “I don’t think Julian will run.”</p><p>“He was terrified.”  Geralt growled.  He had smelt the fear masking the sweet honeysuckle smell, knew every other Witcher had smelt it to.  Julian was terrified of them.  As all humans where.  If he found out Geralt was his soulmate then Julian would run as far and as fast as he could.</p><p>“Not of us.”  Vesemir said.  “He’s scared of his past.  I can’t begin to imagine what that boy has been through but if you were him, surrounded by men you didn’t know, wouldn’t you feel fear to.”  And Geralt nodded slowly.  “The boy has a spine of steel.”  Vesemir said.  “Give him time and I’m sure he will come to trust us.  Trust that he is safe.”</p><p>Geralt wanted to believe Vesemir.  He had seen Julian’s spirit, seen the spark in those blue eyes.  Even after the horrors Julian surely must have faced, he still had spark.  Still had fight in him.  Perhaps Vesemir was right, Geralt hoped he was.  perhaps with time Julian would come to trust and therefore not fear the Witcher’s.  But Geralt wouldn’t let himself hope.  As much as he already loved Julian, wanted to care for this strong, broken omega with everything he had, Geralt would not let himself hope that Julian would ever allow him to.</p><p> </p><p>.....</p><p> </p><p>Jaskier was woken by a soft knock at the door.  For a moment fear grasped Jaskier hard enough for him to gasp for air.  That knock would be the guards, summoning him to King Vizimir’s chambers.  Except Jaskier wasn't wearing the collar.  Underneath the sheets and furs, he had clothing on.  Slowly Jaskier remembered the events of the day.  The Witcher’s freeing him.  Geralt’s soft warm amber eyes.</p><p>Stumbling to the door, Jaskier unlocked the door to find Triss standing there.  The brown haired sorceress wore a large smile as Jaskier opened the door.  “We didn’t see you at dinner so Geralt said to bring these up.  He was going to bring them up himself but I wanted to say hello properly and drop some things off as well.”  Triss said, motioning to a plate overflowing with meat and potatoes.</p><p>Jaskier felt his mouth water at the sight.  He had spent the last 5 years surviving off old stale bread from the kitchens, a thin watery gruel which Vizimir had brought to him once a day, and the occasional tit bit the King fed Jaskier from his own plate.  Jaskier shivered at the memory, of being treated like a dog.  Collared and leashed, knelt at Vizimir’s feet as the King pressed a small strawberry into Jaskier’s mouth.  Petting him on the head when Jaskier had eaten it, telling him he was a good boy.</p><p>“Julian?”  Triss’ voice broke Jaskier from his trance with a start.  He offered her a small smile, taking the offered plate from her hands.  </p><p>“Thank you.”  Jaskier said and Triss beamed in answer.</p><p>“I brought you these to.”  Triss said, waving her hand and a trunk suddenly appeared in Jaskier’s rooms.  Jaskier jumped back in surprise.  “Sorry, magic.  I forget sometimes not everyone’s used to it.  Go ahead open it.”</p><p>Jaskier did so, placing the food on the table and hesitantly opening the trunk.  “Yennefer and Ciri helped pick them out.  We didn’t know what you preferred but Yennefer seemed confident you’d like them.  And well, it’s not like they’re going to be missed even if you don’t want them.  I swear Witcher’s wear nothing but black.”</p><p>Triss’ rambling faded into the background as Jaskier lifted an embroidered chemise from the chest.  There were doublets and breeches of varying bright colours.  Colours which Jaskier had worn once.  So long ago, in another lifetime in Oxenfurt.  Clothes of extraordinary colour and flamboyant in their very styles.  Jaskier felt tears pinprick at his eyes.  It was too much.  They had already given him so much.  He didn’t deserve any of this.  He’d done nothing to deserve such kindness.</p><p>“Hey.”  Triss’ hand rested on Jaskier’s shoulders and he was so caught up in the beauty of the clothing he couldn’t even flinch.  “I know it’s a lot.  But I promise it will get better.”  Triss said and Jaskier felt a sob break through him.  He had thought he had cried all his tears away but now he felt more running down his cheeks.</p><p>“I don’t understand.”  Jaskier whispered, voice overcome with emotion.  “Why are you all being so kind to me.”  In Jaskier’s experience no one was ever kind unless they wanted something.  It had been easier in King Vizimir’s court.  At least there he had known his purpose.  Understood what was expected.  But here.  They were all being so kind to him and Jaskier knew it would come at a cost.  Knew that somewhere Jaskier was going to have to pay for this kindness.</p><p>“Because we want to Julian.  Because everyone no matter who they are deserves to be treated with kindness.  We don’t want anything.  We just want to help you.”</p><p>Triss encircled her arms around Jaskier, bringing him into the first hug he had had in 5 years and Jaskier let himself sob into her shoulder.  He wanted to be believe her.  Wanted to believe that the kindness he was being shown didn’t come with a price but he couldn’t.  Not yet.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please note the beginning of this chapter contains non con elements and rape.  Please do not read if you aren't comfortable with this.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Hands trailed over Jaskier’s bare  chest were he sat on the lap of a noble visiting King Vizimir’s court.  He yelped as the man twisted violently on his nipples.  It was cold in the room, Jaskier shivering as a hand came to fondle at his balls.  A harsh pat to the head had Jaskier whimpering.  Fingers pressed against his mouth, forcing his jaw open so the fingers could explore the inside of his mouth.  Those fingers thrust to the back of Jaskier’s jaw, making him choke and close his mouth around the long digits involuntarily.  “Bitch.”  The man growled, shoving Jaskier from his lap.  Jaskier went sprawling onto hands and knees, shouting as the man’s hand came down on his bared arse sharply.</p><p>Vizimir looked up from where he stood with a frown on his face.  He walked over to Jaskier, tutting softly as he stroked Jaskier’s hair gently.  Jaskier whimpered in the hold, tears pouring from his eyes as the man behind him hit him once more on the arse.  Jaskier was pushed forwards from the violence of the hit, further into Vizimir’s hand.  “What have we said about biting Dandelion.”  Vizimir crooned, motioning behind him.  A servant placed the ring gag into his mouth and Jaskier struggled backwards, ending up meeting the noble’s hand on his arse as he swung to hit Jaskier again.</p><p>“Please.  It was an accident.  I didn’t mean to.”  Jaskier begged, not caring that tears were running down his face.  He cried out as the next violent blow to his arse sent him sprawling forwards.</p><p>King Vizimir motioned for the man behind Jaskier to stop.  “He’ll learn soon enough.  He just ned a bit of training.”  Vizimir said as if Jaskier wasn’t there.  Jaskier struggled against the hold Vizimir had on his hair.  “Open up Dandelion.”  And Jaskier knew he should obey but he couldn’t bare to have that thing forcing his jaw open again so he kept his mouth stubbornly closed.  Vizimir sighed and before Jaskier knew what was happening, the noble behind him was straddling Jaskier’s back, pinning his hands under one of his larger hands, other hand replacing Vizimir’s in his hair and forcing Jaskier’s head upwards.  </p><p>“Please.”  Jaskier begged, voice soft as Vizimir stroked his face softly.</p><p>“He’s begging for it your Grace.”  The noble grunted from his place on top of Jaskier.  Vizimir chuckled, forcing Jaskier’s mouth open with a harsh push on his jaw.  Jaskier sobbed as the gag was forced between his teeth.  When the buckles were free, Vizimir grabbed Jaskier’s collar and dragged him forwards.</p><p>Jaskier whined behind the bag, struggling as a silk rope was fastened around his wrists, leaving them pinned to his back.  “Good boy, you sit here and warm my cock.”  Vizimir said, stroking Jaskier’s hair as he unfastened his breeches.  Jaskier tried to struggle as he was forced onto his knees.  Vizimir fisted Jaskier’s hair, holding him place before thrusting his cock into Jaskier’s throat hitting the back instantly…..<br/>
…….Jaskier woke with a start.  He barely got out of the wraps of furs and blankets he had cocooned himself and to the chamber pot before he was violently throwing up.  Sobbing, Jaskier brought a shaky hand up to his neck, feeling the absence of the collar.  Jaskier fought back a sob as he curled into the chamber pot, retching what little he’d managed of the meal Triss had brought him the night before back up.  Tears were flowing down Jaskier’s face and his breathing was coming out in gasps.  His hands shook as he felt around his jaw.  There was no gag.  There was no collar.  He was wearing clothes, albeit bed clothing.  He was safe.  He wasn’t in Redania.  King Vizimir was dead.  He was safe.  He wasn’t a slave anymore.  He was safe.</p><p>Jaskier kept repeating these things for what felt like hours as he slowly got his breathing under control.  When the sharp tinge of fear had finally left Jaskier, he slowly rocked back onto his heels.  He was covered in sweat, face a mess of tears and snot.  The sharp tang of vomit came from the chamber pot and Jaskier cringed in shame.  He was a mess.</p><p>Slowly, Jaskier stumbled to his feet.  Triss had given Jaskier a brief run through of the castle before she had left him for the night.  Looking out of the window, Jaskier saw that it was still dark outside, meaning there would be no one around.  Jaskier felt like his skin was crawling, memories of hands touching and tugging and slapping.  Jaskier took a deep breath in, forcing those memories away as he grabbed the brown doublet and breeches, he had been given in Redania.</p><p>Jaskier was silent as he opened the door to his chambers.  Triss had said the hot springs were below the castle and it was the middle of the night, or early morning at least.  No one would be there.  As Jaskier walked the corridors he felt like he was on edge the whole time.  What if on of the Witcher’s saw him?  Would they be angry that he was walking the corridors in the middle of the night.</p><p>But all the way down to the hot springs, Jaskier met no one.  It was odd.  Walking the dark halls, lit only by the occasional torch and flash of moonlight through the sparse windows, it was like walking through a deserted castle, not one full of 100 odd Witcher’s.</p><p>Jaskier paused when he reached the hot springs.  He hadn’t expected to find this here, underneath a castle full of Witcher’s.  The hot springs was a beautiful sight, rock flooring and small rock pools all steaming from the underwater spring.  Nervously, Jaskier stripped from his clothing, folding it neatly so it was  close at hand should anyone wander down.  The hot springs was lit by firelight, dancing against the luminous water.  Slowly, Jaskier slid his way into the hot warm water and nearly groaned in pleasure.</p><p>He had received baths in Redania.  King Vizimir demanded his slave be kept clean at all times, but the water had nearly always been cold.  Odd times Jaskier had arrived to it being lukewarm, suggesting it had at some point been warm.  But this…this was heaven.  Jaskier felt all the tension he’d been carrying in him wash away as he sunk further into the hot springs.</p><p>There was a bar of soup sitting at the springs and Jaskier presumed it was a communal one.  Not caring, Jaskier picked it up and started to ferociously scrub at every inch of skin.  The more he scrubbed the more he felt like he was washing away the memory of those hands on his skin.  By the time he was finished, Jaskier’s skin was pink from scrubbing and Jaskier felt more relaxed than he had since arriving in Kaer Morhen.  Probably more relaxed than he had since Oxenfurt.  Jaskier ran long fingers through his brown hair, washing away the grime and grease that had accumulated there since his last bath in Redania.</p><p>Jaskier had no idea how long he spent in the hot springs but by the time he forced himself to move, his skin was wrinkled and his limbs were loose and relaxed.  Glancing around, Jaskier silently cursed himself for not thinking to bring a towel.  He winced as he pulled his clothing on over his wet skin but couldn’t bring himself to complain.  At least he had clothing.</p><p>Finding his way back to his rooms was more difficult than it had been finding his way to the hot springs.  But he did manage it, eventually.  Jaskier had seen an area for cleaning out the chamber pot on his way here, so he took the bucket filled with stale vomit and walked back down the corridor.  He was silent as he washed the mess away.  By the time he arrived back at his rooms and locked the door behind him his hair was nearly dry and the sun was slowly rising up over the mountains.</p><p>The chest Triss had brought up the night before still stood in the centre of the room and Jaskier found himself drifting over to it.  The clothes he was wearing were slightly too long in the arm and he had to keep hoisting the breeches up to stop them falling down.  He had the sneaky suspicion that the clothes in the chest would fit him perfectly.  Jaskier still couldn’t understand why Triss had brought these to him.  Why she, Yennefer and Ciri had gone to the trouble of finding clothes they thought Jaskier would like.</p><p>Opening the chest, Jaskier pulled out the first doublet, a dark blue with a pattern of red and yellow embroidered in small cut-outs in the doublet.  The clothes he’d been wearing to go down to the hot springs were the same as the Witcher’s had given him in Redania.  It stood to reason they would need washing.  And if that was the case, Jaskier would need other clothes to wear.  These clothes.  And yet Jaskier still hesitated.  Triss had said the kindness shown to Jaskier wasn’t because they wanted anything.  Geralt had promised that no one would touch Jaskier unless Jaskier wanted it.</p><p>It was hard for Jaskier to believe their words.  Hard to believe that putting on these clothes didn’t put him in their debts.  But they had done nothing to suggest they meant Jaskier any harm yet and Jaskier truly did want to wear these flamboyant and vibrant colours.  Ridiculous as it sounded, putting clothes that he would so easily have worn in Oxenfurt before his Father had sold him to Vizimir was a step towards returning to his old self.  At least a little.</p><p>Resolved, Jaskier pulled out the matching dark blue breeches for doublet and stripped himself of the brown doublet and breeches.  As he pulled the clothes on, he was surprised to find the breeches were soft on his skin.  The chemise was soft and light, floaty.  As he fastened the doublet and pulled on the black boots at the bottom of the chest, he found himself feeling more like his old self than he had in years.  With that thought, and a quick glance at the light now shining through the window, Jaskier decided he would brave the halls of Kaer Morhen in the daylight.</p><p>……</p><p>Witcher’s didn’t startle easily.  Their mutated hearing, smell and eyesight made it near impossible for anyone or anything to sneak up on them.  That being said, Geralt didn’t notice Julian walking around the corridor until he was nearly colliding with the omega.  “Sorry.  Sorry.  I didn’t know you were here.”  Julian stammered as he stepped back from Geralt.  He had been walking nearly silently down the halls and Geralt, mind distracted already by said omega, hadn’t even registered his smell before the omega was stepping round the corridor.</p><p>“It’s fine.”  Geralt grunted, hurt running through him when he saw Julian had step back so there was a large gap between the omega and alpha.  “Are you coming down to breakfast?”  </p><p>Julian looked startled at the question, blue eyes vibrant even in the dim halls of Kaer Morhen.  “I…Yes.  I’m not sure where it is.  Sorry.”  Geralt felt his eyes wandering over the blue doublet and breeches Julian wore.  Red and yellow adorned the splits down the front of Julian’s doublet.  The outfit was far too flamboyant for Geralt’s tastes but he found it suited his soulmate.</p><p>“I’ll take you.”  Geralt grunted.  “Nice clothes.”  The compliment was awkward and heavy in his tongue and it made Julian flush red, eyes dropping downwards.</p><p>“Triss gave them to me…I can give them back if…”</p><p>“No.”  Geralt interrupted, making the omega flinch.  Not as violently as he may have yesterday but he still flinched all the same.  Geralt pushed down the hurt, reminding himself instead of what Vesemir had said.  Julian was dealing with the aftermath of a traumatic experience; it was perfectly natural for him to flinch at sudden movements or harsh words.  Geralt made a mental note to try to keep his voice calmer, not that he had a fucking clue how to even begin doing that.  “I mean, they suit you.  You should keep them.  And no one else here’ll wear them.”</p><p>“No?”  Julian, voice hesitant even as his blue eyes burned with curiosity.  Geralt had to squash the anger at this as he hummed in response.</p><p>“Witcher’s don’t do bright colours.”  Julian laughed then.  It was only a soft chuckle but the sound lit his face up, eyes dancing.  Geralt felt his heart warm at the sight and hummed.</p><p>“Triss said Witcher’s only wear black.”  Geralt chuckled at this as well.  Triss and Yennefer were always trying to force Witcher’s into other clothes outside of their armour but they hadn’t succeeded yet.  “She’s nice Triss.”  Julian continued, as they walked down the corridor.  “I…She said that you asked her to bring up dinner for me last night.  Thank you.  I’m sorry I wasn’t able to come down, I was exhausted and fell asleep.”  Geralt grunted, frowning at the guilty look that crossed Julian’s face.</p><p>“It’s fine.  You didn’t have to come down.  Don’t have to at all if you don’t want.”</p><p>“Oh.”  Julian breathed and Geralt wondered how long it had been since Julian had any choice in what he did.</p><p>All to soon they were standing outside the great hall doors.  Geralt paused for a moment, glancing at Julian.  They were still early so the great hall wouldn’t be as full as it usually would be but it would still be loud and full of Witcher’s.  Before Geralt could ask if Julian wanted to take his food somewhere else, Julian was already pushing at the heavy oak doors.  Geralt grunted, pride washing through him.  He could smell the fear on his soulmate’s skin but Julian still made himself move.</p><p>Julian paused as they entered the great hall, eyes glancing over at the Witcher’s filling out the tables.  There was only about 40 there but Geralt knew the sight was still an intimidating one for a normal human, let alone one that had spent who knows how long being abused daily.  Before Geralt could think, he placed a gentle hand on the small of Julian’s back, guiding him past the throng of shouting Witcher’s.  He expected Julian to flinch but the omega didn’t, he tensed slightly but he let Geralt guide him down the hall towards the seat Geralt usually sat at.</p><p>A few Witcher’s gave Julian curious glances as they walked past but Geralt shot them down with a glare.  Word had travelled to the Witcher’s.  They all knew who Julian was to Geralt.  They all knew Geralt had found Julian as a slave to Redanian’s former King.  But while they were all curious, they all understood not to mention any of this to Julian.  Not to make the omega feel uncomfortable.  It probably helped that last night, when it had become obvious Julian wasn’t coming down and Ciri had gone to bed, Geralt had made it clear what would happen to any of the Witcher’s if they harmed Julian in any way.</p><p>“Where do I sit?”  Julian asked, voice quiet and small as he glanced at the high table that Geralt was leading him to.  Geralt paused.  He had just assumed Julian could sit by him.  The Witcher’s didn’t exactly have any formal seating arrangements except for those who sat at the high table with Geralt.  Their warlord.  Geralt cursed himself silently, of course Julian wouldn’t understand why Geralt would let an omega he didn’t even know sit by him.</p><p>“Where would you like to sit?”  Geralt asked instead.  If Julian chose to sit as far from Geralt as he could, it would hurt of course, but Geralt would respect his soul mates wishes.  Instead, to Geralt’s utter surprise, Julian seemed to move closer to him casting eyes wearily out to the other Witcher’s.</p><p>“I can…you don’t mind.”  Geralt just grunted.  He’d removed his hand from Julian’s back but as close as Julian was now, Geralt didn’t need the touch to know Julian was there.  If he moved his hand even slightly, he would brush Julian’s.  Distantly he wondered how that hand would feel in his own sword calloused one.  Soft and supple.  Gentle.</p><p>Julian seemed to notice the closeness as he suddenly took a nervous gulp and stepped backwards, creating a gap between them once more.  Geralt tried to hide his disappointment as he led Julian up to his usual seat at the high table.  “I’m not taking anyone else’ seat am I?”  Julian asked hesitantly.</p><p>“Breakfast isn’t as formal as dinner.”  Geralt grunted and Julian nodded slowly.</p><p>“And if I…If I came for dinner tonight.  Where would I sit?”  Geralt wanted to say here but he knew doing so might scare Julian.</p><p>“You can sit next to Triss.  She’ll appreciate the distance from Lambert.”</p><p>“Hey, Merigold fucking loves me.”  Lambert shouted in way of greeting as he sat himself on the seat opposite Geralt.  Eskel dropped next to Lambert, offering Julian a smile in greeting.  At the entrance of Geralt’s brothers, Julian had flinched back, seemingly trying to make himself smaller in their presence.  Geralt felt a rush of irrational anger at his brothers at this.  Julian had just started to relax, ever so slightly, to Geralt’s presence and now these two idiots had pushed him straight back to where they’d started.</p><p>“Pass us the cheese.”  Lambert growled, motioning to the plate by Julian’s arm.  Julian picked up the plate and handed it over to Lambert.  And when Lambert offered it back to Julian, question in his eyes it damn near broke Geralt’s heart.  His soulmate looked so lost at being offered the food that Geralt wanted to find anyone who had ever hurt Julian and rip them apart.</p><p>“You don’t each much do you.”  Lambert grunted when they were halfway through dinner.  Eskel sighed at Lambert’s side, Geralt feeling anger course through him.  He expected Julian to take afront to the answer, to flinch back at Lambert’s bluntness but instead, to Geralt and Eskel’s surprise, Julian smiled, soft and barely there but still a smile.</p><p>“Never had much of an appetite for breakfast.”  It was true, Julian had a few pieces of fruit on his plate but hadn’t touched anything else.  Geralt frowned.  Julian was thin, he needed to eat not pick at a few pieces of fruit.</p><p>“Some of us just aren’t pigs like you.”  Eskel laughed and Geralt saw Julian’s smile widen a tiny amount.  Lambert growled at this, throwing a piece of bread at Eskel’s head.  </p><p>“We’re not allowed to throw food.”  Ciri announced as she bounded up to Geralt’s side.  She offered him a hug before taking her seat next to him and then leaning over to wave at Julian.  “Morning Julian.”  Julian smiled, waving hesitantly back.  Triss took a seat at Julian’s other side, Yennefer taking her spot next to Ciri as she offered Julian a smile in greeting.  “I have training this morning with the Witcher’s Julian.  Did you know I’m going to be the first Witcher girl.”  Geralt, Lambert and Eskel all tensed at those words.  They knew Ciri would never be a Witcher. The mutations unable to be given to a girl and the fact that the sorcerers who had created the Witcher’s had all died, slaughtered by the very Witcher’s they had created when Geralt had become warlord, so they knew Ciri would never be a true Witcher.  But it still pained them to imagine the thought of their young lion cub going through the trials.</p><p>“She means she’s training with the Witcher’s.”  Triss clarified at Julian’s side.</p><p>Julian nodded in answer, turning to face Ciri with a serious look.  “Then you must be the bravest little girl I have ever met.”  Ciri beamed at that.</p><p>Julian was silent at Geralt’s side for the rest of breakfast, but Geralt could feel the omega slowly relaxing as the Witcher’s, sorceresses and Ciri ate.  Eskel, Lambert and Ciri had gone already and Geralt would have usually disappeared as well but he couldn’t bring himself to leave, the feeling of his soulmate at his side (even if Julian didn’t know the truth) all to alluring for Geralt to just leave.  He knew Yennefer was giving him a knowing look but he chose to ignore it.</p><p>“I could do with some help in the distilling room if you have time this morning, Julian?”  Triss asked as she finished her food.  Julian looked surprised at the offer.</p><p>“I’m not sure I’d be much help.”</p><p>“It’s easy.  I’ll show you.”  Triss exclaimed and Julian nodded slowly.  As Triss stood up to leave, Julian followed allowing his arm to be linked with Triss’.  Geralt watched as Triss led his soulmate away, feeling like a piece of him was going as well.</p><p>“He’ll be back you know.”  Yennefer stated, moving over to sit in Ciri’s seat.  The cub had gone with Eskel and Lambert for her training.  Geralt just grunted in answer.  It was strange.  He had gone so long without his soulmate and now he was here, all he wanted to do was spend every moment with him.  Ever moment assuring himself that Julian was safe and cared for.  “He’s doing well.”  Yennefer stated.  “A lot better than I thought he would be.”</p><p>“Spine of steel.”  Geralt grunted pride running through him, repeating Vesemir’s words from yesterday.  Yennefer hummed in answer.</p><p>“Be careful Geralt.”  Yennefer’s voice was serious as she spoke.  “Julian is hiding a lot of what happened to him.”</p><p>“You know what happened to him.”  Geralt immediately interrupted.  He could guess the basics of Julian’s torment but he knew unless the omega told him specifics, he would never know them.</p><p>Yennefer’s eyes turned soft, sadness glinting in them.  “His mind is a mess.  I don’t have exact details but some memories drift through his mind and I can’t help but see them.  He’s not as fine as he’s letting on.”  Yennefer sighed, voice serious once more.  “Don’t get attached too quickly.  You’ll only hurt yourself.  Julian isn’t ready for you to tell him the truth yet.  I don’t know if he truly ever will be.”  Geralt just nodded.  He had no intentions of telling Julian.  He didn’t want to be the one to shatter Julian any further.  And if he told Julian he was soul mates with a Witcher, that was exactly what would happen.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Thank you for the kind reviews.  I hope you all enjoyed</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier’s life quickly took on a pattern the last month in Kaer Morhen.  Every night Jaskier would wake, stifling and choking from a dream of his time with King Vizimir.  The dreams varied in what happened, but then Vizimir had never been predictable in his abuse of Jaskier leaving Jaskier’s nightmares plenty of fuel to torment him with.</p><p>One particularly vivid dream of Jaskier’s last heat in Redania had had Jaskier curled in the sheets, wheezing breaths as he tried desperately to control the panic and fear clawing its way through him.  He was ashamed to say he hadn’t been able to make himself move from his bed that whole day.  Jaskier knew his disappearance for the day had caused worry in Kaer Morhen.  When he had reappeared the next day at breakfast, still shaky and pale but otherwise better than he had been the day before, Geralt hadn’t been able to tear worried amber eyes from him.</p><p>Most mornings, after calming himself from the nightmares, the sun hadn’t even risen.  At those times, Jaskier was able to get down to the hot springs, wash and re-dress before anyone else was up.  One morning, Jaskier had met Triss on his way back to his rooms and she had offered him a warm smile saying, “Early riser then.”  Jaskier had just smiled, not willing to admit that he was too embarrassed.  To ashamed to appear in the hot springs naked.</p><p>He had started to believe Geralt’s promise that no harm would come to him in Kaer Morhen and it helped Jaskier in keeping himself calm throughout the days.  With the knowledge that the Witcher’s wouldn’t touch him, Jaskier had managed to push past his fear of the unknown and befriended a number of them.</p><p>It had happened by accident really.  Jaskier had always been curious, curious with a great lack of caution in his younger days.  It had caused him no end of trouble in Oxenfurt.  While his time in Redania had done a lot to stifle Jaskier’s lack of caution, if anything it had made him overly cautious and mistrustful of any new people, it hadn’t stifled Jaskier’s curiosity.  It had been the one thing Vizimir had never managed to beat out of Jaskier.  Yes, Jaskier knew the consequences of his curiosity.  Knew asking a question or even looking at something with wonder in Vizimir’s presence could result in a sharp spanking, beating or the dreaded ring gag that still made Jaskier sick to his stomach.  But even knowing all that, Jaskier had never been able to stop his unquenchable curiosity.</p><p>Lambert was the first Witcher Jaskier really be-friended.  He was a loud mouthed, angry Witcher who was bluntly honest with Jaskier.  And that was probably what had drawn Jaskier to the Witcher.  Everyone treated him with kid gloves, watching Jaskier as if he was about to break, but Lambert didn’t.  He didn’t mind laughing and joking at Jaskier’s expense and when Jaskier had finally built up the courage, a week into his daily breakfasts with the short tempered Witcher, to insult Lambert’s appalling eating habits the Witcher hadn’t gotten mad.  Instead he had laughed loud and long, slapping Jaskier on the back in the way Jaskier had seen him do with Geralt and Eskel and the other Witcher’s on numerous occasions.</p><p>Jaskier didn’t know if would count himself as close to Eskel as he thought he was with Lambert, if the short tempered Witcher’s jokes were anything to go by, but he still thought they were friends.  It was hard to get a read on the scarred Witcher, Eskel was quiet in a lot of ways the exact opposite of Lambert.  He watched Jaskier with weary eyes as if he was unsure of what to make of Jaskier.  All of this had made Jaskier tense around Eskel.  He’d gotten good at reading what people wanted in King Vizimir’s court, had had to in order to survive, but he couldn’t get a read on what Eskel wanted.  So the day he had finally built the encourage to insult Lambert, he hadn’t expected Eskel to clap him on the back to farewell.  It seemed as if Jaskier’s joking at Lambert’s expense had done something to make Eskel approve of him. Since then, Jaskier had been able to push through the unease towards the scarred Witcher.</p><p>Kaer Morhen had an expansive library, much larger than the one in Redania where Jaskier had spent much of his time.  Jaskier found Kaer Morhen’s library a few days into his arrival.  He’d been exploring the castle when he’d found the rooms, lined with books upon books.  Most of the books contained information on monsters and how best to kill them but there were other books to.  Books that Jaskier slowly devoured.  It was on one afternoon, rain pouring outside that Jaskier had walked into the library to find Vesemir sitting there.  The old Witcher had looked at Jaskier with kind eyes and upon seeing Jaskier start to back away, had invited him to remain.  Jaskier had been hesitant but upon seeing the kindness in Vesemir’s eyes and emboldened by a little over 2 weeks in Kaer Morhen, Jaskier had entered.   They had sat in silence the afternoon, both leafing through thick tomes as the rain splashed against the windows.  When Jaskier’s eyes had finally decided he could take no more reading and he stood to leave, he thought he might have seen approval in Vesemir’s own amber eyes.</p><p>Jaskier spent a lot of time watching the Witcher’s train.  It was fascinating to watch, the Witcher’s fighting with as much grace as a panther and as much violence to.  He was reminded heavily how fierce and dangerous these Witcher’s actually where whenever he sat at the top of one of the gardens, watching their daily practices.  But the very same Witcher’s who fought with such obvious violence and glee where also kind people.</p><p>A little over 2 weeks ago, Jaskier had wandered into the great hall one afternoon to find a group of Witcher’s playing Gwent at one of the dining tables.  Jaskier had been nervous as he wandered over, watching as the game went on.  When the hand was played, a Witcher named Aidan, who Jaskier vaguely recognised from his first meeting of the Witcher’s in Redania had lifted amber eyes to look at him. Jaskier had immediately dropped his eyes, nerves flaring through him.  The Witcher’s had been enjoying themselves and he had disturbed them.  But instead of telling Jaskier to leave, Aidan had grinned saying, “Deal him in.”  And Jaskier had ended up sitting with 10 Witcher’s playing Gwent.  He had experience playing the game from his time in Oxenfurt and had watched too many games in King Vizimir’s courts.  Those games had mostly involved Jaskier sitting on nobles laps, being fondled and on more than a few occasions being used as offer of payment when King Vizimir lost.  All things considered, Jaskier had a good grasp of the game and ended up winning.  He’d felt nerves fill him when he’d played the winning hand, the table going silent as 10 Witcher’s looked at him.  Until a Witcher named Coen had slapped Jaskier on the back and congratulated him.  After that the Witcher’s had dealt the cards again and Jaskier had spent the rest of the afternoon laughing and joking as they played.  Suffice to say the Witcher’s had looked a lot less intimidating after a few rounds of Gwent.</p><p>It was easy for Jaskier to be friends with Triss.  The brown-haired sorceress seemed to have latched herself onto Jaskier since Jaskier first arriving at Kaer Morhen.  She was a kind, gentle woman with a fiery personality.  Triss was the first person in Kaer Morhen Jaskier hadn’t been afraid of.  He spent most mornings with her in the distillery, cutting up all manner of gruesome items for her potions.  She even seemed impressed when Jaskier held his stomach handling the newt eyes and rat tails.  Witcher potions, Jaskier was quickly finding out where the most disgusting things to make.</p><p>One morning a week into Jaskier arriving in Kaer Morhen, Yennefer had arrived in Triss’ distilling room.  It wasn’t that Yennefer had ever been harsh or cruel to Jaskier, but the violet eyed sorceress scared him.  She exuded power and chaos and Jaskier distantly thought that she was probably more dangerous than half the Witcher’s in Kaer Morhen.  So when she walked into Triss’ distil room that morning, Jaskier had felt himself tense up and fear run through him.  If he had known Yennefer he would have seen the glint flashing in her violet eyes for what it was, sadness.  Instead he had barely been able to maintain eye contact as he cut the items Triss directed him to.  He expected Yennefer to ask Triss whatever she had come to ask and leave, he hadn’t expected the beautiful noble mage to roll her sleeves up and assist with the cutting up of the rat tails.  “I didn’t expect a dainty flower to stomach cutting up Triss’ ingredients.”  Yennefer stated off-handily half-way through cutting.</p><p>Jaskier had snorted and retorted, “I assure you I’ve seen much worse in my time.  Lambert’s table manners for one thing.”  And Yennefer had snorted in laughter.  After that his friendship with Yennefer had been easy.  Full of sharp barbs and sarcastic words.  It had had a few Witcher’s raising their eyebrows in surprise when they had witnessed the word sparring between Yennefer and Jaskier and Jaskier thought Geralt looked like he wanted to rip Yennefer’s throat out after a particularly vicious barb one dinner.  At least until Jaskier had retorted with a barb just as equally vicious which had Yennefer smiling with approval and Geralt looking utterly confused.</p><p>Geralt.  There was something about the white Witcher warlord that drew Jaskier in.  There was no denying Geralt was handsome.  Unfairly so.  Jaskier hadn’t felt lust since he had left Oxenfurt and the lust he felt for Geralt was terrifying.  If Geralt wanted to bend Jaskier over and take him Jaskier actually didn’t think he’d mind.  But Geralt would never do that.  Over the course of the last month, Jaskier had doubted a great many things but one thing he had come to accept as simple fact was that Geralt would never hurt Jaskier.  He was kind and gentle when it came to Jaskier.  Jaskier had seen Geralt roughhousing with the other Witcher’s.  He had watched him enough on the training grounds to know Geralt was perhaps the most dangerous Witcher here.  But Geralt never showed any of that to Jaskier.  He was gruff yes.  Gruff and obviously terrible with words.  But he always tried to make Jaskier feel comfortable.  Always watched Jaskier with a protective look in his eyes.  Jaskier had thought the looks would make him feel dirty, watched, leered at but the looks Geralt sent him only made him feel protected and safe.  And that scared Jaskier more than anything else could have.  He couldn’t understand why this fierce alpha warlord Witcher looked at him like that.  Like he would kill whoever Jaskier asked him to.</p><p>And he couldn’t understand why he felt so safe and protected under Geralt’s amber gaze.  Jaskier had learnt from even a young age that he could only count on himself.  His Father had never shown any interest in Jaskier short of seeing his son as his heir, until Jaskier had presented as an omega of course.  Minus the odd tutor and wet nurse in Jaskier’s early childhood he had quickly become independent to the point of not needing anyone’s protection.  Even after everything he had suffered in King Vizimir’s court, Jaskier had accepted no help from any of the kinder servants.  He had only let himself rely on himself.  He was the only person who would never disappoint himself after all.  Except Jaskier felt an undeniable draw to Geralt.  He wanted Geralt to protect him.  Wanted Geralt to care for him as he had wanted no one else to do in his entire life.  And that fact both overwhelmed and terrified him.</p><p>A week into Jaskier’s stay in Kaer Morhen, he had found a small and secluded area of the gardens.  It had been on one of his explorations of the castle grounds one late afternoon and Jaskier hadn’t believed that the beautiful secluded garden was always so quiet.  Flowers bloomed in every available space in a variety of different colours.  A large oak sat in the corner of the garden, the area around it covered in long grass, providing a cushion from the hard ground.  It was mid-Autumn, winter would be here in the next 2 months and it was already freezing in Kaer Morhen but the small garden Jaskier had found seemed to sing of summer.  The hardy flowers: buttercups, peonies, pansies, primrose and even dandelions; grew wild and untamed in this small private garden.  When Jaskier returned the next day he fully expected to find someone there.  But he didn’t.  And he didn’t when he returned every day that week.</p><p>A week after finding the garden, Jaskier bottled his nerve and brought his lute to the peaceful garden. He hadn’t touched it since coming to Kaer Morhen and it needed tuning.  Jaskier brought the lute carefully out of it’s case, cradling the precious instrument in his arms and started to gently tune it.  When he was done, he kept it held in his arms, fingers running over the strings.  He hadn’t played in so long other than to tune the instrument the weight felt strange in his arms.  Strange but not unwelcome.  Before Jaskier could fully grasp what he was doing he started a low familiar tune playing on his lute.  When he finished, he found himself smiling softly, a tear racing down his cheek.  He had always loved the music.  The way it flowed so easily from his hands.  He hadn’t realised how acutely he had missed the simple pleasure of playing until this very moment.  All at once the knowledge of what he had missed these last 5 years hit Jaskier and he found himself bent over the lute crying quietly.  5 years.  5 years of his life taken from him.  He would never get that time back.  He would never be the man he could have been if the last 5 years hadn’t happened.</p><p>Everyday that he could after that, Jaskier brought his lute to the small garden.  Slowly, he re-gained the familiarity of playing his lute.  Within a week he had added soft lyrics to his playing.  Familiar, well known songs.  Nothing difficult at first but the simple act of playing singing was enough.  Jaskier felt his heart grow lighter the more he played.</p><p>And then, a month after arriving in Kaer Morhen, Jaskier had his bent over his lute singing a soft lullaby he remembered a wet nurse singing to him when he was barely 5 years old, he heard a noise in the undergrowth.  Jaskier’s hands instantly grew still and his breath stopped in his chest.  His hands shook as he tried in vein to find the source of the noise.  Someone had heard his playing. Jaskier had never heard music in the halls of Kaer Morhen and the terrified part of his brain knew the Witcher’s would ask him to stop.</p><p>A blond head of hair appeared from a large cluster of primrose, emerald eyes glowing and a sheepish expression on her face.  “Please don’t stop playing.  I didn’t mean to disturb you I just like to listen.”</p><p>“You’ve listened before?”  Jaskier asked, barely keeping the anxiety from his voice as he looked at Ciri.  He had spent little time with Geralt’s child Surprise, a fact he’d learnt from Eskel, and while Jaskier liked the girl he was unsure how to act around her.  The girl was a bubble of excitement and energy, always running around from place to place.  She was loved by all the Witcher’s and Jaskier couldn’t help but feel that if he said something wrong to Ciri then he would be forced to leave Kaer Morhen.  Not that he was scared of a child, but he was scared of what the Witcher’s would think if he spent too much time with her.  So he stayed away.</p><p>Ciri nodded, moving over so she could sit opposite Jaskier.  She picked a buttercup from the ground, twirling it in her hand as she fixed Jaskier with emerald eyes, sheepish look still on her face.  “Yennefer says I shouldn’t spy but I heard your singing and I wanted to hear more.  I’ve been coming here most days.”  She said it as if as a challenge but Jaskier couldn’t get over the fact he had been being watched, by a child no less, and it had taken him this long to notice.  It sent shivers up his spine.  Who else had watched him and Jaskier hadn’t noticed.  “Please keep playing.  I can leave if you want but I really do want to hear your singing.”  </p><p>Jaskier was silent for a moment, confusion bubbling through him.  The last thing he had expected was to hear Ciri say she wanted to hear him sing.  Slowly, he nodded and chose a simple song about a young Princess.  He strummed the beginnings of the tune and let himself get lost in the music and lyrics.  When he was finished, he lifted his eyes to find Ciri’s emerald eyes watching him attentively.</p><p>“Where di you learn?”  She asked when Jaskier had finished.</p><p>“Oxenfurt.  I was training to become a bard.”  Ciri nodded seriously.  Jaskier was glad when she asked why he had stopped.  He didn’t know how much Ciri knew about his circumstances but he knew the Witcher’s wouldn’t have told her he had been a sex slave.</p><p>“So you’re a bard?”  Ciri asked and Jaskier felt his heart go still.  He had always wanted to be a bard.  To travel the continent and sing his songs to the world.  Slowly he shook his head but Ciri’s eyes had taken on a stubborn look.  “Yes, you are.  You have a lute and you sing better than any bard I’ve ever heard so you’re a bard.”</p><p>“I…I suppose if you say it like that.”  Jaskier stuttered.  He had dropped all ambitions of being a bard the day he had been sold to Vizimir but now…maybe Jaskier could follow those dreams again.  “Another?”  Jaskier asked and Ciri nodded.</p><p>They spent the next hour like that, Ciri listening as Jaskier strummed his lute and sang.  At some point, the music he played had become more boisterous, giving Ciri a chance to laugh and dance in the gardens.  He had gotten to his feet to, moving his feet to the tune as he played his songs.  When he finished his final song, Ciri looked at sky and a disappointed look fell across her face.  “I have to go.”  Jaskier couldn’t help the disappointment that passed through him then either but he understood Ciri had other things to do other than spend her afternoon with Jaskier.  “Can I come again tomorrow?”  Her voice was hopeful and Jaskier found himself smiling happily.</p><p>“Of course my lady.”  Jaskier said, bowing to her with as much flamboyance as he could.  Ciri giggled, smile bright.</p><p>“Thank you Julian.”  She said, turning her back on him to return to Kaer Morhen.  At that moment Jaskier felt a twinge in his heart.  Julian was the name of a boy sold to a King by his Father.  Jaskier was the name of the bard he had always wanted to be.</p><p>“Jaskier.”  Jaskier said, smiling as Ciri turned to look at him with confused eyes.  “Call me Jaskier.”  She grinned at that before running back the way she came.</p><p>Jaskier settled himself back onto the ground, a smile playing on his lips.  He had given up his dreams years ago but now thanks to the appreciation of a 10 year old Witcher girl, Jaskier could feel those dreams once more in touching range.</p><p>…..1 week later….</p><p>Julian hadn’t been out of his rooms all day and Geralt had felt worry running through him.  He had gone up to Julian’s rooms to check on him, smelt the fear that had been pulsing in the locked room.  It was strange, after over a month Geralt had slowly started to understand the difference of this fear to the fear Jaskier had had when he first arrived.  This had a sharper, bitter tang to it.  The first time Geralt had smelt it, a week after Julian arrived, he had thought the omega was hiding in his rooms because he was afraid of the Witcher’s.</p><p>It had taken Triss going to Julian’s rooms only to return to Geralt and Yennefer with worry, pain and sadness etched on her face for them to realise it wasn’t the Witcher’s that scared Julian.  Geralt had broken the table he had been standing by with a thunderous punch when Triss had said memories of Julian’s time with Vizimir was causing this.  The thought that even now, with Vizimir dead, that man still had the power to cripple Julian to lying in bed all day had Geralt’s anger nearly overwhelming him.</p><p>This had only happened 3 times since Julian’s arrival in Kaer Morhen but every time it did, the whole keep seemed to stand still.  Eskel and Lambert had passed the word to the other Witcher’s that the fear permeating Julian’s rooms wasn’t towards the Witcher’s and now the whole keep seemed on edge and angry whenever they smelt that smell.  All knowing why Julian was feeling that way and all furious over the horrendous fact of Julian’s treatment at the hands of Redania.  It was made all the worse when Julian re-appeared the next day face pale and drawn and a fake smile on his face, insisting he was fine and it was a simple stomach bug that had kept him in bed the day before.</p><p>“Can Jaskier play at dinner tomorrow night?”  Ciri asked from where she was seated between Geralt and Yennefer after dinner.  The words brought Geralt out of his thoughts of Julian, curiosity and fear running through his heart.  He didn’t know a Jaskier.  There wasn’t anyone in Kaer Morhen called Jaskier.  Who had Ciri been talking to?</p><p>“Who is Jaskier?”  Yennefer’s mind had obviously went the same direction as Geralt’s as she shared a worried look at Geralt before Geralt dropped his eyes back to his would-be daughter.</p><p>Ciri rolled her eyes at this, as if they were both ridiculous.  “Julian.  He told me to call him Jaskier.”</p><p>“He did?”  Yennefer asked, confusion in her tone as Ciri nodded.  “When was this?”</p><p>“I was listening to him playing his lute and singing in the gardens.  He’s a bard you know.  Trained in Oxenfurt.”  Ciri said as if Geralt and Yennefer should know this.  Geralt could only look at Ciri in shock.  He had seen the instrument when Julian had brought it back from Redania.  The only item he had asked to be able to bring, but Geralt hadn’t seen it since and had promptly forgotten of it’s existence.  And to learn Julian had studied at Oxenfurt.  Even Witcher’s had heard of the prestigious school in Redania.  He knew Julian had an education, Vesemir had disclosed that Julian had a preference for the books written in the elder tongue.  The fact Julian knew the language of the elves implied he had a good education.  But to learn he had studied in Oxenfurt, obviously before he had been taken as a slave of Vizimir’s was still a shock.</p><p>“So, can Jaskier play?”  Ciri asked.</p><p>“You’ll have to ask him.”  Yennefer said voice soft.  “And if he says no you have to respect that.”  Ciri nodded her understanding and Geralt felt a well of pride for his cub.  She didn’t know of Julian’s history, he would ever soil her with information on Julian’s past, but she still understood that she had to be patient with Julian.  Jaskier.  He had told Ciri to call him Jaskier and while he hadn’t told Geralt to call him that, he couldn’t help but think that Jaskier suited him much better than Julian.</p><p>Jaskier.  A hardy yellow flower.  Buttercup or Dandelion.  Geralt felt an itch over the small dandelion on his soul mark.  Jaskier.  Yes, Jaskier suited him much better than Julian.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warnings: please read the tags before reading.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier was ashamed.  He had tired to get out of bed that morning but he hadn’t been able to move.  Limbs feeling heavy as if paralysed all Jaskier could do was lie curled in the soft furs as memories hit him.  The feeling of hands on his bare skin.  Touching, licking, slapping, caressing.  Jaskier felt tears run silently down his face as he buried himself further into the furs, as if that might make the memories slide away.  They didn’t.</p><p>A broken sound came from Jaskier’s mouth as the memory of being stuffed full overtook him.  The plug placed into his hole after Vizimir had spent his hole.  The feeling of walking around all day with that cum moving inside of him.  Jaskier shivered under the covers, trying desperately chasing the memories away.  The memory of Vizimir’s long fingers, playing with that plug throughout the day.  Pushing it in and out as, the cum held in Jaskier’s arsehole dripping onto the floor when he pulled it too far.  Jaskier being forced onto handstand knees to lick the mess up.</p><p>Memories of his heats.  Chain to that bed.  struggling as men surrounded him.  Vizimir’s voice laughing as he stroked Jaskier’s sweat covered hair from his face.  Entertainment.  A sick sick form of entertainment.  But that was all Jaskier had been to those nobles in those 3 days.  Something to play with.  Something to shove their cocks into as his legs naturally produced slick.  As his own cock grew hard even as Jaskier’s mind screamed that he didn’t want this.  He never wanted this.</p><p>The feeling of the ring gag in his mouth, stopping him from being able to speak.  Taking away the final part of Jaskier’s freedom.  The feeling of his jaw being stretched too wide.  Aching and sore for days after Vizimir finally took it off that first month.  The feeling of drool sliding down his chin, unable to stop it with his mouth stretched that wide.</p><p>Memories of always being aware of his own nakedness.  Of King Vizimir always making a point of patting Jaskier’s cock when he good.  Of slapping it harshly even in a room full of nobles in the middle of dinner if Jaskier misbehaved.  Of eyes always pressed on Jaskier’s naked body.  Whether in lust, pity or disgust.  It didn’t matter.  They all sore him.  Every inch.</p><p>The indignity.  The shame.  The pain.  The embarrassment.  Innocence lost.  5 years of his life lost.  And now Jaskier was losing his freedom to that man.</p><p>In these times, all Jaskier could do was lie and sob into the cushions until he could finally force those memories back into the little box in his mind he’d created the first month in Redania.  It was a poor box, the lock broken and cracked letting memories leak through.  But it was the only way Jaskier had been able to handle these experiences.  To push them into this bursting box of horrors in his mind and pretend as best he could that they hadn’t happened.</p><p>He knew there were times in the 5 years in Vizimir’s court where he completely blacked out.  His heats for example.  Jaskier only remembered vague memories of pain and shame and fear from those times.  His mind, trying to protect him while Jaskier’s body was unable to, locked those memories away in the little box, buried under weights of other memories.  Hid them so Jaskier didn’t have to remember.  Didn’t have to suffer any more than he already did.</p><p>But sometimes the effort of keeping those memories locked so tightly away took to much.  When this happened, the memories overtook Jaskier’s very mind.  Making him re-live horrendous moment after horrendous moment.  Unable to do nothing until the onslaught of memories finally ended and he wad able to lock them away again.</p><p>When Jaskier finally came to, eyes stinging from constant crying, pillow soaked under him, limbs cramped from the feral position he had taken, it was night.  Jaskier barely remembered seeing the sun rise let alone set and wondered distantly how long he had laid there under the onslaught of memories.  He felt numb.  As if his body wasn’t really apart of him as he slowly unravelled himself from the blankets and stood on shaking legs.</p><p>Lifting the small mirror Yennefer had given him, Jaskier winced at the state of his face.  Blue eyes red from crying, face pale and flushed.  He collapsed onto the edge of the bed, body shaking as he tried to regain some control over his limbs.</p><p>It wasn’t fair on the Witchers kindness for him to do this.  He knew they could smell the fear on his skin, Aidan had mentioned it once in passing, saying Jaskier no longer smelled of fear around them like he had when he first arrived.  It wasn’t fair that in these moments of Jaskier’s mind betraying him, the Witchers had to suffer through the stink of Jaskier’s fear permeating from his room.  And Jaskier tried.  He tried so damned hard to keep himself functioning, to stop the memories from crippling him.  But sometimes he couldn’t.  Sometimes the memories won.</p><p>Glancing towards the door, Jaskier saw a plate of food and a pitcher of water sitting waiting for him.  He knew it had been either Yennefer or Triss portalling the food and water in.  No one had come into the room.  They had left Jaskier alone as they had the few times Jaskier’s mind had betrayed him in Kaer Morhen.  Distantly, Jaskier felt the need to have warm strong arms wrap around him.  Comforting and protecting Jaskier.  But it was selfish for Jaskier to ask when the Witchers had already done so much.  That...that was surely a step too far for even the Witcher’s abundant kindness.</p><p>The moon was a quarter full in the clear night sky.  A breeze washed through Jaskier’s sweat drenched skin as he opened the window of his rooms.  Looking up at the midnight black sky, stars sparkling above, Jaskier let out a soft breath.  The cold air did a lot to clear Jaskier’s head and soon Jaskier was shivering in the cool breeze.  With one last breathe, Jaskier closed the window.  His hands were still shaking softly but the rest of his body was calm.</p><p>Grabbing a clean towel and a change of clothes from the chest Triss had provided on his first day in Kaer Morhen, Jaskier softly made his way to the hot springs under the Witchers castle.  As always in these moments of darkness in the early morning, the castle was quiet.  Jaskier felt the tension slowly leave him as he walked the familiar path down the corridors.</p><p>Jaskier stripped when he entered the hot springs, easing himself into one of the steaming pools and closed his eyes, letting the warm water soothe away the final lines of tension.  The hot springs always had a soothing affect on Jaskier.  As he scrubbed his body clean with a bar of lavender soap Yennefer had offered him, he felt like he was washing away the dirt and humiliation the memories of the last 5 years always brought.</p><p>When Jaskier finally climbed out of the hot springs and towelled himself dry, the memories that had haunted him the whole day prior was a distant memory.  It was still dark as Jaskier padded his way through the sleeping castle.  Jaskier was exhausted.  The day prior hadn’t exactly been restful.  But he was afraid to sleep again.  Afraid the memories would take hold of him again while he slept.  So instead, he made his way into the library.</p><p>He had to light a candle to light his way in the darkness the night brought.  With his hands still shaking, it took Jaskier a little while but eventually the candle was lit.  Jaskier pulled a random book from the shelf, settling himself into a large armchair hidden in a small alcove in the library.  Jaskier pulled his legs up under him, candle settled carefully on a small table.  As he opened the book, he let his mind get lost in the pages.</p><p>It was a diary of a Witcher, Jaskier didn’t know which as the author hadn’t signed his name.  Jaskier felt himself drawn into the entry around a small town called Blaviken.  Of a woman named Renfri that the Witcher had fallen in love with.  She hadn’t been his soulmate but for a Witcher to find anyone who they might love was a rare occurrence.  Jaskier felt his heart lift as he read through the Witcher’s encounter with Renfri, of their passionate love making in the forests.  And then his heart broke as he read on.  Of Renfri’s death at the hands of the Witcher.  At how she had forced he love to murder her in order to stop her.</p><p>By the time Jaskier had finished he had tears in his eyes and the sun was starting to rise.  As Jaskier closed the diary and placed it back on the shelf, he had a new appreciation for Witchers.  In his time in Kaer Morhen he had quickly learnt that Witchers weren’t the unemotional monsters the stories made them out to be.  This small insight to the way a Witcher had cared for a simple mortal woman.  Had loved her.  And lost her.  It cemented Jaskier’s belief that Witchers weren’t monsters but simply men who needed someone to care for them.</p><p>Jaskier took himself into the great hall, thankful that there were few people up at this time.  He took a spot at the end of the high table, grabbing a few pieces of fruit onto his place.  The few Witchers in the hall were looking at Jaskier with worry in their eyes, looking at Jaskier as if he might break.  Jaskier hated it.  He hated that he lost control of his mind long enough for the Witchers to notice.  To worry.</p><p>When Jaskier was finished, he quickly got to his feet, intending to spend the day away from awkward questions until tomorrow when they could all pretend nothing had happened.  As he exited the great hall, he walked straight into Geralt, Eskel and Lambert.  “Julian.”  Geralt’s voice was soft, surprise in his amber eyes as if he thought Jaskier would still be in bed. Jaskier felt shame run through him.  He didn’t want to appear useless, which was exactly what he did appear after the memories stole his ability to move.</p><p>“Geralt.  Good morning.”  Jaskier said, forcing himself to grin.  It didn’t work to stop Geralt’s worry as the alpha’s amber eyes were still full of concern.  Eskel and Lambert had already gone into the hall, both giving Jaskier looks of concern before leaving.  Jaskier wished Geralt would leave to.  Wished he didn’t have to still see the pale quality of Jaskier’s skin or the way his hands hadn’t completely stopped shaking.</p><p>“Are you ok?”  Geralt asked, voice soft and full of concern.</p><p>“Never better.”  Jaskier grinned, moving to move away from Geralt.  “Sorry, I need to go.  I promised I’d help Triss in the distillery.”  Before Geralt could say a word Jaskier had turned around and gone.  He knew it was a poor lie.  Triss had left a note with his food to say she didn’t need his help today and if Geralt had wanted to he could ask her and know that Jaskier was lying.  But Jaskier couldn’t bring himself to care.  He just couldn’t bare to be faced with those burning amber eyes so full of concern.  Not when he didn’t deserve it.</p><p>....</p><p>Despite the cold weather, the day was nice.  The sun was high in the clear sky.  Birds called their songs to one another as Jaskier settled himself into his usual spot under the oak in the small garden.  His lute sat on his lap and a small notebook and quill sat next to it.  He had been nervous when he had asked Vesemir for the notebook and quill, not wanting to explain why he wanted it.  But Vesemir hadn’t said a word, just silently given Jaskier what he had requested with a warm smile.</p><p>When Ciri had called Jaskier a bard, said she liked his singing, Jaskier had felt some of his old confidence come back.  Enough to make him ask for the notebook and quill so he could start to compose again.  He had thought it would be hard.  He hadn’t composed since Oxenfurt and had thought he would surely have lost his touch with the lyrics that had once come so easily to him.</p><p>To his great surprise, the moment he had the lute he had felt lyrics flow from him with more ease than they had in years.  It helped that Jaskier had more inspirations than he had ever had before.  Witchers were a great source of inspiration and Jaskier wondered distantly why more bards didn’t make it there mission to write songs about them.  But then, Jaskier supposed Witchers were a hard lot to get on with and would scare any bard that came too close.</p><p>Not Jaskier though.  Jaskier who had spent 5 years living through the horrors of the Redania nobles didn’t find the tales of monsters and blood and gore terrifying.  In fact, the stories told over dinner and afternoons in the great hall playing Gwent about monsters and what it took to kill them awoke the adventurous spirit Jaskier had always had in his childhood.  The more the Witchers spoke the more Jaskier had felt a need for something.  He hadn’t realised what that need was until the day he brought his newly acquired quill and notebook out and let the lyrics pour forth.  He had at least 2 decent songs and a few in the works at this point already and he was slowly starting to feel more like the bard Ciri had proclaimed him to be.</p><p>Today, Jaskier felt lyrics for a new song start to pour forth.  Lyrics about a woman named Renfri and a Witcher he didn’t know.  The ballad was sad and simple in it’s composure but Jaskier could rectify the simplicity later.  Right now he wanted to get the words out before he lost them.</p><p>So lost in his writing, Jaskier didn’t hear Ciri’s approach until he lion cub was almost on top of him.  “You missed lunch.”  Ciri said as she flopped onto the grass opposite Jaskier.  jaskier glammed up at the sky and blushed a little.  He hadn’t even realised the time, too busy sat here letting the music flow through him.  “Geralt said to bring you this.”</p><p>Ciri held out a carefully wrapped cloth which Jaskier presumed held food.  He took it with shaking hands, worry running through him.  Did Geralt know what Jaskier was doing in his time in the gardens.  Jaskier supposed Geralt didn’t mind as he hadn’t stormed up here and demand Jaskier stop so either he didn’t know Jaskier was sitting here composing songs or he just didn’t care.</p><p>“Thank you Ciri.”  Jaskier smiled and Ciri beamed.  She watched him critically until Jaskier had unwrapped the cloth and taken a bite of the warm bread sitting in it.  When he had, Ciri smiled and jumped to her feet, off exploring the flowers growing here.  Slowly, Jaskier ate the bread, cheese and grapes that had been wrapped in the cloth.  When he was finished, he wrapped it carefully and placed it in his lute case so he wouldn’t forget to return it.</p><p>“I can braid them in your hair if you would like.”  Jaskier found himself saying as he watched Ciri picking flowers.  She turned to look at him with wide excited eyes.</p><p>“Really?”  She asked and Jaskier chuckled softly and nodded.  Ciri sat in front of Jaskier as he directed her, placing the flowers she had picked next to him.  As Jaskier worked through Ciri’s long blonde hair, separating it into parts so he could braid it he found himself humming softly.  He had always loved to braid the hairs of the younger kitchen maids when he was younger and the action of braiding Ciri’s hair, wrapping flowers in the ash blonde relaxed Jaskier as much as his music had.</p><p>When he was done Ciri jumped to her feet, pulling out a small looking glass from a small bag she had around her waist.  Jaskier presumed that was Yennefer’s influence.  “I love it.”  She grinned, flinging herself at Jaskier for a hug.  And for a wonder, Jaskier didn’t flinch.  Instead he let the girl wrap her arms around him and felt himself relax into the warm hug of this small girl.  When she jumped back her face was beaming. </p><p>“Jaskier, I wanted to ask you something.”  jaskier hummed, worry settling into his stomach at the seriousness of Ciri’s tone.  “Would you perform tonight?”</p><p>“What?”  Jaskier asked, confusion filling him as he looked at the girl in front of him.</p><p>“Play your lute.  At dinner.”  Ciri said, emerald eyes wide and pleading.  “I asked Yennefer and Geralt and they said that if you said yes you could.”  Jaskier felt confusion rush through him.  Play at dinner.  To a hall full of Witchers.  To Geralt.  </p><p>“Ciri, I don’t....”</p><p>“Please Jaskier.  You’re really good and I know the Witchers will love it as much as me.  Please.”  Ciri begged and Jaskier felt his resolve slowly loosen at the look in her eyes.</p><p>“Ok.”  Jaskier said, voice still hesitant.  Ciri grinned madly, pulling Jaskier into  another quick hug before jumping up.</p><p>“I’m going to tell Geralt the good news.  And show him my hair.  Thank you Jaskier.”  Ciri called, running away.</p><p>All Jaskier could do was stare after the girl, fear clenching in his chest.  What the fuck had he just agreed to.</p><p> </p><p>........</p><p>Jaskier sat in his usual place at dinner, between Triss and Lambert, nerves running through him.  He had brought his lute along with him and saw Ciri’s approving smile as she grinned at him for her place next to Geralt.  She still had her hair braided, most of the flowers having fallen out but a few dark purple ones still. Settled in the braid, bringing out the emerald in her eyes. </p><p>“You did good with her hair.”  Triss said as Jaskier sat, eyes moving to the lute but saying nothing about it.  “She said you’ve done a better job than anyone else.”</p><p>“Careful buttercup.  She’ll make you do it ever day if your to good.”  Lambert grunted from his side and Jaskier felt his eyebrows raising at the name.</p><p>“Buttercup?”  Jaskier asked.  Lambert just shrugged.</p><p>“Fitted.”  Jaskier couldn’t say anything about that so let the name slide.  It was...nice.  Like a term of endearment.  Nothing like the name Dandelion had made him feel.</p><p>Dinner went on as normal.  The Witchers as loud as always, shouting across the tables as they ate and drank.  Jaskier could barely pick at his food, nerves overwhelming him as his hand kept drifting to touch his lute.  He had never felt nerves in Oxenfurt.  Had always loved the heady rush of performing.  But now, the thought of eyes settling on him brought him in mind of eyes watching him walking the halls of Vizimir’s court naked.</p><p>“You don’t have.”  Jaskier jumped in his seat at Geralt’s soft voice.  He hadn’t seen the white wolf move but now he was leaning across Triss’ seat.  Jaskier felt his heart stutter at the closeness.  He could make out every detail of Geralt’s face from this angle.  Could see the different shades of amber flecked into those beautiful eyes.</p><p>“I want to.” Jaskier said.  He was nervous yes.  More nervous than he had ever been.  But he was a bard.  A bard sang and if Jaskier could survive the eyes of lustful alpha’s watching his naked form parade the corridors, he could survive a roomful of Witcher’s listening to him sing.</p><p>Geralt levelled Jaskier with a long gaze before grunting.  The white wolf clapped his hands and the hall went silent.  All eyes turned to the high table and Jaskier could feel the nerves running through him once more.  He expected Geralt to say something but when the white wolf just kept amber eyes trained on Jaskier, Jaskier realised Geralt was waiting for him.</p><p>Jaskier took the lute and placed it over his shoulder, with a fortifying breath he stood up and started to strum the beginnings of a well known song.  He was surprised when a few Witchers started to sing along to the chorus and when he finished the song the hall erupted in cheers and banging of cups.</p><p>“Another.”  A Witcher, Aidan Jaskier thought, yelled and Jaskier felt some of the nerves disappear. </p><p>He let himself get lost in the lyrics, singing the well known bawdy (but appropriate for Ciri) songs.  The Witchers were on their feet, clapping and signing the songs.  They had moved the tables and a few Witchers were dancing.  Cir was in the middle of the floor, being flying around in twirls as she danced to Jaskier’s music.  Jaskier let his eyes drift to Geralt and could see a smile on his lips.</p><p>Jaskier sang louder and longer than he had ever done before, letting himself feel free with the flow of music and lyrics.  By the time Jaskier had finished, hours later he was grinning madly and laughing in joy.  Geralt had been right.  He was free.  He really truly was finally free.</p><p>Geralt appeared at Jaskier’s side, Witchers starting to disappear from the great hall or pulling cards out for a few games of gwent before bed.  The white haired Witchers face was full of adoration as he smiled down at Jaskier.  “Ciri said you were good bard.”  And Jaskier felt himself flush at the endearment.  Bard.  He was a bard.  Not a sex slave.  Not a toy.  Not Dandelion.  He was a bard.</p><p>“Thank you.””  Jaskier grinned.</p><p>“Ciri called you Jaskier.”  Geralt said, voice gruff and Jaskier could swear he detected nervousness in the Witchers tone.</p><p>“It’s...it’s the name I chose for myself when I wanted to be a travelling bard.”  Geralt hummed in acknowledgement and Jaskier realised he was waiting for Jaskier to give him permission to use it.  He wouldn’t call him Jaskier until Jaskier had said he could.  He felt his heart warm with affection and gratitude at this.  Smiling softly and, still high from the endorphins of performing, Jaskier let his fingers brush against Geralt’s fingers.  “You can call me Jaskier too if you like.  You all can.”</p><p>“Then it is a honour to meet you Jaskier.”  Geralt smiled and Jaskier felt his smile widen impossibly large.</p><p>That night Jaskier had the first decent night sleep he had in 5 years.</p><p>......</p><p>When Jaskier woke the next day it was to the sun shining through his window.  It was such a shock to see the sun shining through the window that Jaskier did a double take.  So used to waking from nightmares in the middle of the night, Jaskier couldn’t quite believe the golden glow filtering through the window, highlighting the room in warmth.  Jaskier felt more rested than he had been in years.  His night for the first time in so long undisturbed by memories or hands shaking him awake to be ready to pleasure a King.</p><p>Jaskier felt the smile that he worn yesterday return to his face as he pulled himself out of bed.  It was strange.  The joy he felt was so foreign as if it belonged to someone else.  But it didn’t.  It was Jaskier’s joy.  He could have laughed from it.  The heady rush of freedom and joy ran through Jaskier as he gathered his things for his journey to the hot springs.</p><p>It wasn’t until he was halfway down the corridor that he realised this would be the first time he would be in the hot springs with anyone else.  The first time anyone had seen him naked since leaving Redania.  It was like water being doused on a flame as Jaskier felt panic start to burn through him.  But he quickly pushed it away.  He was free.  He could do as everyone else did and go to the hot springs and sit naked while he washed himself.  He wouldn’t be the only one.  If he was quick then perhaps no one would see him.  And, Jaskier thought looking out at the sun high in the sky, it was past breakfast.  With any luck no one would actually be down there.  Bolstered by this thought, Jaksier continued his way down to the hot springs.</p><p>He was in luck.  No one was there. B reaching a sigh of relief, Jaskier stripped and climbed into the hot springs.  He had expected there to be a difference from the usual time he came here but there wasn’t.  Closing his eyes, Jaskier let himself get lost in the warm water of the springs.</p><p>The sound of footsteps and loud shouting brought Jaskier out of the calming influence of the coring.  Panic clawed at him as he realised the footsteps and voices were coming towards the hot springs.  Jaskier scrabbled out of the spring, hands shaking as he grabbed his clothes to start to pull them on.  He’d been wrong.  He couldn’t handle the idea of anyone saying him naked.  Not when the memories pushed at his mind, reminding him of the leering looks of nobles as he knelt at King Vizimir’s side.  Collar in place.</p><p>Jaskier barley managed to scramble into his small clothes when the first Witcher walked in.  Corn greeted Jaskier with a large smile as he headed into the hot springs, clothes already off when he entered the hot springs.  Jaskier felt his face flush as he saw Witchers enter the hot springs, all stripped and naked.  He could feel his hands shaking as he pulled his breeches on and pulled the chemise over his head.</p><p>And then his eyes rested on Geralt.  Geralt’s chest, where a small dandelion rested next to a wolf’s front leg.  So small.  Crushable.  Dandelion.  Jaskier felt panic claw at his chest as Vizimir’s words rushed through his mind.  “Dandelion.  My good boy.  My Dandelion.”  Jaskier choked, tears running down his face as he pushed past the startled Witchers, not registering the hurt in Geralt’s amber eyes.  All he could hear.  All he could see was King Vizimir taunting him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please read the warnings before continuing.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt felt as if someone had ripped his heart out of his chest as he watched Jaskier push past him.  Tears stained those big blue eyes, blue eyes that had stared at Geralt’s soul mark and had shown so much pain and fear in those cornflower blue eyes.  “Geralt...”. Eskel started but Geralt just growled.</p><p>He ignored the stares of the Witchers as he followed Jaskier out of the hot springs.  He didn’t know where he was going, all he knew was he had to get away from Kaer Morhen.  Away from Jaskier.  He had thought, foolishly, that Jaskier was different.  That Jaskier wouldn’t care that his soulmate was a Witcher.  Geralt had allowed himself to hope when he saw the small smiles that Jaskier had sent his way.  The way Jaskier had stopped flinching around not only him but all the Witchers. Jaskier had engrained himself as part of Kaer Morhen in his small interactions with the Witchers.  The fear dissipating to what Geralt thought was a friendship.  And then last night Jaskier had been so full of joy.  Singing with his lute in hand.  Glowing and raditaing happiness.  Nothing like the man Geralt had first seen knelt naked at the feet of a perverted King.  Geralt had been a fool.</p><p>He had been a fool to think Jaskier would ever love him.  Ever accept that Geralt was hit soul mate.  A Witcher.  The butcher of Blaviken.  Of course Jaskier had reacted the way he did.  Jaskier who was so king and gentle and so fucking strong.  He deserved someone far better than Geralt.  Than a monster.</p><p>.......</p><p>Jaskier didn’t register getting to his rooms and locking the doors.  Sobs burst through his body as memories of King Vizimir’s court overwhelmed him.  Jaskier collapsed onto the bed, barely registering that he had left his boots and doublet in the hot springs on his mad rush to escape the room of Witchers.</p><p>Dandelion.  Nothing more than a toy for Vizimir to fuck.  So easy trampled on.  So easily torn from the ground and kept as a thing.  Not a person.  Certainly never a bard.  How could he have let himself think he would ever be able to be a bard.  How could he ever think he could be anything more than a thing for someone to fuck.  A toy.  Used.  Disgusting.  Broken.</p><p>Jaskier curled tighter into a ball, hiding under the furs as he sobbed brokenly.  His soulmate burnt where the tiny dandelion stood.  A reminder.  A constant fucking reminder of what he truly was in this world.  Nothing.</p><p>.....</p><p>“What happened?”  Yennefer seethed as she turned angry violet eyes on Eskel and Lambert.  She had seen Geralt tear past her in the corridor, amber eyes blazing full of pain as he left Kaer Morhen, took Roach from he stables and all but fled down the path.  The fool had still been fastening his armour on when he left.</p><p>“Jaskier was in the hot springs.”  Eskel started, backing down slightly when Yennefer turned blazing violet eyes on him.  Everyone had been calling Julian Jaskier since last night.  When they had seen the true person Jaskier was.  The music the joy the happiness.  Nothing like any of them had seen since Jaskier’s arrival in Kaer Morhen.  “He was...”</p><p>Lambert growled amber eyes blazing.  “He took one fucking look at Geralt’s soul mark and ran straight past us.”  Yennefer could see the pain past lambert’s angry amber eyes.  The Witchers had thought Jaskier was different.  They had thought Jaskier wouldn’t care if his soulmate was a Witcher because he was no longer scared of the Witchers.  They were fools.</p><p>“Shit.”  Yennefer breathed as she realised what that meant.  Jaskier had fled because Geralt was his soulmate.  She felt irrational anger start to flood her.  Geralt had let Jaskier in.  He had cared for the omega more than Yennefer had ever seen him care for anyone but Ciri.  Geralt loved Jaskier.  And Jaskier had fled.  Causing unrepairable damage to Geralt’s heart in the process.</p><p>Yennefer ignored Eskel and Lambert’s questioning shouts as she stormed past them, towards Jaskier’s rooms.  She could feel the anger bubbling through her as she thought of the heart wrenching pain on Geralt’s face.  All because his soulmate had refused to accept he was a soulmate to the Witcher.</p><p>When she stood outside of Jaskier’s door, she prepared herself to barge into the room, lock be damned.  Except as she drew her chaos to her to break the lock on the other side, she felt a sharp tang of pain.  Of pain and fear.  In opening her chaos to break the door down, to confront Jaskier, she had unwittingly breeches the omega’s mind.  She had touched Jaskier’s mind briefly in the time he had been in Kaer Morhen, had seen small flashes of what had happened to him but never detail.  Never technicolour awful detail as she was seeing now.  But this...this was so much worse than she could have ever imagined.</p><p>.....A whip flashed across his back, Jaskier screamed past the gag fastening his teeth open, thrashing wildly in the bonds tying him onto the bed.  Tears streamed down his face as the whip came down again.  Blood splattering the thin sheets the only thing between Jaskier’s stomach and the straw mattress.</p><p>“You stupid little fucking bitch.”  Vizimir growled by Jaskier’s ear, hands clenched harshly in Jaskier’s hair.  Jaskier screamed as the whip came down again.  “All you had to fucking do was sit there and look pretty.  Even a fucking moron could manage it.  And what did you do.  You fucking struggled.”  Images of the dinner Vizimir was referring to.  Of Jaskier’s lease being tugged harshly by a noble boy, no older than Jaskier himself (barely 18), a cruel sneer on his face as Jaskier had toppled from the Dias at King Vizimir’s face.  Landing flat faced in front of the visiting noble.  Of people laughing and King Vizimir’s furious face in his view.  It hadn’t been Jaskier’s fault.  They had all seen the noble boy cause Jaskier to fall down.  It didn’t matter.</p><p>“You will learn your lesson Dandelion.”  As the whip came cracking down on Jaskier’s back again.  The King motioned with a hand and the whipping stopped.  Jaskier felt himself breathe in relief, until hands clawed at his arse, parting his cheeks.  Jaskier sobbed, spit running down into the cushion below him.  Mouth still wide open for anyone’s use.  “You will stay here and service my guards until you have learnt your lesson.”  Vizimir growled, tugging at Jaskier’s hair once more before moving.  Jaskier sobbed brokenly.</p><p>“Don’t kill him.”  Vizimir growled before leaving the room.</p><p>The rest was a blur of pain, humiliation and more pain.  His hands and feet were untied from were they had been tied around his wrists and ankles, leaving him spread eagled on the bed for the whipping.  Jaskier had tried to fight.  He had tried so desperately to fight.  But his body was aching from the whippings and these men were hardened warriors.  They had just laughed.</p><p>One man grabbed Jaskier’s arms, pinning them behind his back as another started to tug at Jaskier’s cock, hanging limply.  Jaskier whined, the pain of the whipping intensifying as he was jerked so he was nearly bent in to, open mouth hovering close to his own cock.  The guards laughed.  A hand started tracing the whip marks, still bleeding sluggishly and Jaskier screamed.</p><p>“Look at him.  Pretty little Dandelion.  All bloody and ready for us.”  One laughed.  Jaskier was hoisted back to standing, feeling dizzy as he was pushed on the bed.  A harsh smack on his arse left him whimpering.</p><p>“Always so fucking needy Dandelion.  So fucking insatiable is what I heard.”  One said, pushing fingers into Jaskier’s throat.  Jaskier gagged around them as they pressed against the back of his throat.</p><p>“I wonder Dandelion.”  A man from behind Jaskier said, spreading Jaskier’s cheek so his red hole was on view.  ‘If you’re really as good a fuck as they say you are.”  A laugh from behind as a finger was roughly thrust in Jaskier’s entrance.  Jaskier groaned and the men laughed.</p><p>“I’ve been waiting for this since you arrived, Dandelion.  Always wandering around naked.  Enticing us.  You want this don’t you dandelion.  You ducking enjoy this.”  And Jaskier didn’t.  He didn’t want this.  He didn’t enjoy this.</p><p>“Fuck hold him still.”  The one from behind said, ripping his fingers from Jaskier’s hole.  Hands pushed down on Jaskier’s arms and legs, pinning him to the bed.  Fingers were still thrusting in and out of his spread open mouth leisurely.  His back screamed in agony.  They were laughing at him.  At Dandelion.  A harsh pressure at Jaskier’s hole and the man thrust in, bottoming out in one harsh thrust.</p><p>Jaskier screamed and everything went black......</p><p>Yennefer vomited harshly on the floor as she was thrust out of Jaskier’s memories and into her own memory.  She was shaking, the phantom feeling of hands on her body (or rather Jaskier’s body) making her shiver.  Tears were running down her face and she felt shaky on her feet.</p><p>Small sobs could be heard coming from Jaskier’s door.  He was still trapped deep in those memories.  Memories of hands holding him down.  Of people raping him.  Abusing him.  Yennefer felt all of the anger she had felt evaporate in one as she realised the truth.</p><p>Jaskier hadn’t run because he had found out Geralt was his soul mate.  The chances where the poor, suffering omega behind that door hadn’t even realised the soulmate was his own.  All he had seen was the tiny Dandelion.  A name he had been tormented with for years.  And fucking hell.  Yennefer hadn’t known Jaskier had been Vizimir’s slave for 5 years.  Since he was 16 years old.  Anyone else would have gone mad at the hands of such abuse and torment.  She would have done.</p><p>Yennefer felt guilt well up and worry for Geralt as she listened to the gasping sobs coming from the omega’s room.  Jaskier had seen that tiny little Dandelion on Geralt’s chest and had been thrust back into those horrendous memories.</p><p>......</p><p>Geralt was half way down the path when he felt a buzzing of chaos behind him.  He stopped Roach and turned to see Yennefer walking through a portal.  Her perfectly styled black hair was a mess.  Violet eyes full of tears, face contorted into one of horror as she looked at Geralt.  Geralt felt worry run through him, mind running over every possible reason why Yennefer of all people would look so completely upset.</p><p>“You need to come back.”  Yennefer said, voice brokering no argument.</p><p>“What happened?”  Geralt asked, already leading Roach towards the portal.  Usually he wouldn’t take his horse near the sorceresses portal but if something happened he needed to get back now.</p><p>“Jaskier...”. And at Yennefer’s words Geralt found himself backing away, heart breaking all over again.  He couldn’t go back to Jaskier.  Not when his soulmate had looked at Geralt with such gut wrenching fear when he realised Geralt was his soulmate.  That he was destined to be the mate of a monster.</p><p>“Geralt.  Geralt listen to me.”  Yennefer snapped, voice full of fury and pain.  “He doesn’t know.  He doesn’t know your his soulmate.”</p><p>“But...”. Geralt trailed off under the sharp glare from Yennefer.</p><p>“He didn’t register what it meant.  Geralt he saw the dandelion on your chest and he panicked.  They called him Dandelion.  Vizimir called him Dandelion.”  And oh shit, Geralt felt worry run through him as he looked at Yennefer’s pain filled face.</p><p>“Is he ok.  Shit Yenn, is he ok?”  Yennefer shook her head, a tear running down her cheek.</p><p>“I didn’t mean to go in his mind but I did and...Geralt the things I saw.  No living being should have to endure that pain.  That torture.”  Her tears were silent as she spoke.  “He needs you.”</p><p>“Me?”  Geralt shook his head incredulously.  Jaskier needed comfort and Geralt wanted, needed to give it to him.  But Geralt was a Witcher.  A monster.  Not meant for comforting anyone, least of all someone as kind and gentle as Jaskier.</p><p>“Listen to me Geralt.”  Yennefer said, stabbing a finger at Geralt’s chest.  “I don’t care what you think Jaskier is going to think when he realises your his soulmate.  But right now he needs you.  He needs his soulmate to comfort him.”</p><p>“I can’t Yenn.”  Geralt said, pain laced in his voice at the thought of Jaskier in so much pain.  “Triss would be better.  He trusts her more.  Or you.  Fucking hell Yennefer I’ll terrify him.”</p><p>“You won’t.”  Yennefer said, a small smile appearing on her face.  “I’ve seen the way he looks at you.  He adores you.  When your in the same room, Jaskier’s eyes go straight to you first.  It’s not obvious and I don’t think Jaskier even realises it yet but he loves you.  And more importantly, he trusts you.”  Geralt was silent in the face of this new information.  Jaskier trusted him.  He loved him.  “Geralt I think you’re the only one who can get through to him.  He needs you.”</p><p>And Geralt couldn’t abandon his soulmate.  Not when he needed him.  So he nodded.  Yennefer looked relieved, violet eyes grateful as she took Roach’s reigns from him.  “I’ll take Roach back up the path.  He’s in his rooms.”  Yennefer said, building her chaos to create the portal to take Geralt back to Kaer Morhen.</p><p>“You’re sure.”  Geralt asked because he wasn’t. What if Jaskier panicked.  Geralt had never been good at comforting people.  How the hell was he going to comfort Jaskier who by Yennefer’s demeanour upon walking through the portal was suffering more than anyone Geralt had known.</p><p>“I’m sure Yennefer.”  Geralt took one last look at Yennefer before nodding.  Walking through the portal, he hoped more than anything Yennefer was right.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt felt like his heart might break when he heard the keening noises coming from Jaskier’s room.  The stink of fear and pain permeated from the locked door.  Shit, Geralt wasn’t the person who offered comfort.  How the hell was he supposed to help Jaskier.  Jaskier who sounded so fucking heartbroken behind that door.</p><p>Gently, he tapped on the door.  “Jask?”  Geralt’s voice was gruff and he winced.  Gruffness wasn’t what Jaskier needed.  “Jaskier, can I come in?”  Geralt didn’t expect to hear any sort of response so when he heard Jaskier’s quiet “Yes.”  He thought he was imagining it.</p><p>When he went to open the door, Geralt found it was locked and silently cursed.  He didn’t want to break the door but ever instinct was shouting at him to get to his sobbing mate.  To protect him.  Geralt broke the lock with little effort, the door swinging open.  And the sight that met him ahd Geralt’s heart breaking all over again.</p><p>Jaskier had buried himself under the furs and blankets, brown hair the only thing Geralt could see.  The stink of fear and pain was harsher in this room and it clogged Geralt’s senses as he smelt.  The honeysuckle which usually surrounded Jaskier was none existent.  “Jask?”  Geralt tried to keep his voice soft but he had never been good at being anything but gruff so when he spoke he winced, his voice sounding to harsh in this painfilled room.</p><p>Gently, Geralt closed the door and walked over towards the bed as if he was approaching a wild animal.  “Jaskier?”  A loud sob and the shape of Jaskier’s body under the furs curled tighter into itself.  What had Yennefer been thinking.  Geralt was the worst person for this.  He didn’t offer comfort.  He was a Witcher.  He wasn’t made for this.  It didn’t matter that every instinct in him was screaming at him to protect to comfort this distraught omega.  Geralt didn’t know how.</p><p>“Jaskier.”  Geralt gently placed a hand onto Jaskier’s blanket covered back.  The effect was instantaneous.  Jaskier startled.  The omega’s breath stuttered, body uncurling and backing away as fast as he could from Geralt.  Except Jaskier was already at the end of the bed so when he startled away he fell of the bed, falling onto the hard floor, blankets still tangled around his body.  Wide blue eyes stared at Geralt, fear blowing them wide.  Jaskier’s eyes were looking at Geralt and Geralt realised Jaskier wasn’t recognising them.  Those big blue eyes, so full of joy just yesterday evening, were now blown wide in fear.</p><p>“Jaskier, it’s Geralt.”  Geralt said, trying desperately to keep his voice even.  He held up his hands as he watched Jaskier’s breath come out in stuttered gasps.  “I won’t hurt you Jaskier.  No one will ever hurt you here.  No one will ever hurt you again.”  Slowly Jaskier’s blue eyes started to show a hint of recognition.  It seemed to take an age.  Jaskier backed against the wall, blankets still tangled in his legs.  Legs up to chin, arms wrapped around him as his breathing came out in stuttered gasps.  Blue eyes wide with fear and filled with tears.  Geralt stood on the opposite side of the bed, heart breaking into tiny fucking pieces at the sight.  Arms raised and not moving.  Not willing to startle the already petrified omega.</p><p>“Geralt?”  Jaskier’s voice was croaky, confusion wrapped around the tone.  His whole body was trembling as his blue eyes locked onto Geralt’s face.  “I don’t….why are….”</p><p>“I wanted to make sure you were ok.” Geralt said, slowly walking forwards so he was now only a few inches by Jaskier.  He crouched down onto knees, arms still outstretched.  Jaskier looked at him with heart-breaking confusion, still huddled in on himself.  Obviously still battling with whatever pain was running through his mind.</p><p>“Why?”  Jaskier asked, voice small and so full of confusion.  It hurt Geralt to see Jaskier so confused.  Not understanding why someone would want to make sure he was alright.</p><p>“Because I care about you Jaskier?”  Geralt said.  And Jaskier just looked even more confused at this declaration, slowly shaking his head back and forth.</p><p>“Why?  I don’t deserve it.  I’m broken.  Used.  You shouldn’t care about me.”  And Geralt who hadn’t cried since after the trial of grasses felt tears pinprick in his amber eyes.</p><p>“You deserve it Jaskier.  You deserve ever bit of kindness you are given and more.”  Jaskier’s blue eyes continued to look at Geralt, confusion and disbelief warring in them.</p><p>“Why?”  Geralt didn’t know how to explain it.  Didn’t know how to explain to Jaskier why Geralt cared about him.  Why Geralt wanted to offer Jaskier every bit of comfort in the world that he possibly could.  Except there was one way.  One sure way for Jaskier to believe that Geralt wanted to offer comfort.  And if Yennefer was right then it would mean the world to Jaskier.  Would help him more than anything else could.</p><p>“I…I want to show you something.”  Geralt said, amber eyes serious as they met Jaskier’s blue gaze.  He slowly reached for his shirt, pulling at the material to lift it.  Jaskier closed his eyes, head shaking and gasps coming from him.  “Jaskier.  I won’t touch you.  Promise me.  I want you to look at my soul mark.  That’s all.  I promise.”  And for a wonder Jaskier slowly opened blue eyes.  They held Geralt’s amber gaze for a moment, searching as if to reassure himself that Geralt was telling the truth.  And then slowly his blue gaze moved to Geralt’s chest.  To the wolf and dandelion soul mark sitting just above his heart.</p><p>Jaskier closed his eyes, shaking his head back and forth when his eyes landed on the dandelion portion of the soul mark.  If Geralt hadn’t spoken to Yennefer he would have thought Jaskier was shaking in fear because Geralt was his soulmate.  Now he knew better.</p><p>“Jaskier.  Just look again.”  Jaskier shook his head, muttering a litany of “Please. Please Please.” Under his breath.</p><p>“Jask.  Please look again.  Tell me you don’t recognise it.”  Jaskier lifted tear filled eyes to Geralt and looked again.  Geralt could see the exact moment recognition dawned on Jaskier.  His blue eyes lifted to look at Geralt with a silent question in those blue eyes.  “Yes Jask.  You’re my soulmate.”</p><p>“I…I don’t understand.”  Jaskier whispered.</p><p>“Yes, you do.”  Geralt promised and Jaskier just shook his head, burying his face into his knees, whole body shaking.  </p><p>“No.  I can’t be…Geralt you deserve so much better….I can’t be…No…No…”  Jaskier mumbled, body vibrating at the force of the sobs wracking his body.  Geralt let the protective instincts kick in now, moving over to the omega, his soul mate, and wrapping a gentle arm around Jaskier’s shoulders.  He expected Jaskier to flinch away, instead Jaskier launched himself at Geralt.  Burying his face into Geralt’s chest as he sobbed brokenly.  Geralt let his arms wrap around Jaskier’s body, tears running down his own face now.  “I’m so fucking sorry Geralt.”  Jaskier mumbled into Geralt’s chest, still sobbing violently.  “You deserve so much fucking better.”  And those words broke apart the rest of Geralt’s heart.</p><p>…..</p><p>Jaskier hated his weakness.  Hated the way he had attached himself onto Geralt.  Hated how he was crying wet ugly tears in the Witcher’s shirt.  His soul mate.  His fucking soulmate.  The thought just made Jaskier cry harder.  Geralt deserved so much more than Jaskier.  He deserved someone who wasn’t a broken sobbing mess.  Nothing more than a toy to be fucked and used.  Geralt deserved so much better.</p><p>Geralt’s warm arms encircling Jaskier, holding him close as he cried, held Jaskier in Geralt’s protective embrace was everything Jaskier had ever wanted.  To be held and comforted by his soulmate.  But now he had it.  It was so much better than he could have hoped and so much worse.  Because what would Geralt think of him.  This weak, pathetic disgusting, used omega.  His soulmate.  They were supposed to be the other half of each other’s souls and while Jaskier felt like he’s won the fucking jackpot after all how couldn’t he with Geralt, what would Geralt think.  How disappointed must Geralt be in him.</p><p>“Talk to me Jask.  Tell me what’s wrong.”  Geralt murmured, hand coming to stroke at Jaskier’s hair and Jaskier flinched violently, dislodging him from Geralt’s hold.  Memories of hands fisted in his hair, forcing his head to move or stay still as they pleased.  Gentle strokes of his hair in mock affection even as he lay there with cu leaking out of his arsehole.  Jaskier sobbed, wrapping his arms around his knees once more and rocking back and forth.</p><p>The memories just kept coming and coming and coming and Jaskier couldn’t stop them.  Violent thrusts.  The feeling of his arse being filled.  Choking on a cock in his mouth, forced to swallow load after load after load.  “Jaskier.  Talk to me.”</p><p>“Dandelion.”  Jaskier muttered, shivering at the reminder of the name Vizimir had used.  They had all used.  To torment and abuse him.  The dandelion on his soul mark itched and Jaskier sobbed.  His soul mark.  It was meant to be a precious intimate thing.  And they had destroyed that.  Taken part of the image and distorted it.  Corrupted it to the point that Jaskier had seen the Dandelion on Geralt’s chase and felt the memories overwhelm him.  “I can’t….Geralt I can’t make it stop.  They won’t fucking stop.”  Jaskier knew he sounded half crazed but he couldn’t bring himself to care.  His hands carded into his hair, wrapping himself in a tight ball as he remembered.</p><p>“Your safe now Jask.  I promise you’re safe.”  Geralt murmured, wrapping his arms once more around Jaskier.  Jaskier let himself be pulled into the safe circle of Geralt’s arms as the memories tore through him.  “You’re safe Jaskier.  You’ll always be safe.  No one will ever hurt you again.  I promise.  You’re safe.”  Slowly, those words which Geralt kept repeating finally started to chase the memories away.  Piece by painful piece Jaskier forced those memories into the tiny splintered box they resided in in the deepest darkest corner of his mind.  When he could finally breathe easier, he lifted tears stained blue eyes to meet blazing amber ones.  Held in the protective embrace of Geralt’s arms, Jaskier felt safe.  Safe and protected.  No one would hurt him while Geralt was here.</p><p>Which made it all the more harder when Jaskier knew Geralt wouldn’t stay.  Not when he realised how used Jaskier truly was.</p><p>…….</p><p>“They called me Dandelion.”  Jaskier’s voice was small when he finally spoke.  They had been sat there for hours.  The hard stone floor turning Geralt’s arse numb as he rocked Jaskier’s weight against him.  Gently telling him he was safe while the omega slowly got himself back under control.  It was painful to watch, the internal struggle Jaskier was having with his mind but there was nothing Geralt could do but hold him close and remind the omega that he was safe.  That he was protected.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”  Geralt growled, holding Jaskier closer in his arms.  “I’m so fucking sorry I didn’t find you sooner.”</p><p>“5 years.”  Jaskier breathed and Geralt felt like his heart might stop.  5 years.  5 fucking years Jaskier had been held in that horrendous place. Geralt didn’t know how the fuck Jaskier had survived, let alone with enough sprit still in him to be the Jaskier Geralt had seen him be.  “I was 16.”  So fucking young.  Too fucking young, Geralt thought as he placed a soft kiss to the top of Jaskier’s head.  Jaskier seemed to curl further into Geralt chest as he brought a hand to rest on Geralt’s shirt.  Just above his soul mark.  “You deserve so much better.”</p><p>“No.  You deserve better.”  Geralt grunted.  Surprised blue eyes lifted up to meet Geralt’s amber ones.  “You do Jaskier.  Witchers are monsters.  Mutants.  You deserve so much better than that.”</p><p>Jaskier laughed then, a harsh wrong sounding laugh but a laugh all the same.  “No my dear Witcher.  Witchers are none of those things and you least of all.”  Geralt just looked down at Jaskier in confusion.  “Witchers are kind.  Caring.  Strong people.  You saved me.  You could so easily have left me there or raped me.  Most people would have done.”  Jaskier shivered at this, curling even closer into Geralt’s chest.  “But you didn’t.  You so called monsters showed me more kindness than I have ever had.  More than I fucking deserve.”</p><p>“You deserve every bit of kindness in the world Jaskier.”  Jaskier just shook his head against Geralt’s chest.</p><p>“I was a whore Geralt.  A toy to a fucked up perverted King.  I’m good for nothing but to be used and abused.  Dandelion.  A weed to be pulled out or trampled.”  Jaskier shivered in Geralt’s arms, tears running silently down his face.</p><p>Geralt growled at this, shaking his head violently.  “No Jaskier.  You’re none of things.  You’re a kind, gentle strong human being.  A talented bard.  Not a toy.  Not a thing to be raped.”  Geralt paused for a moment before continuing.  “Do you know what I see when I see the dandelion on my chest?”  Jaskier shook his head softly, blue eyes lifting to meet Geralt’s amber ones.  “I see a strong beautiful flower.  A small, innocent and strong flower.”</p><p>“I’m not innocent.”  Jaskier mumbled.  “I wasn’t innocent the day my Father sold me.”  Geralt felt a sharp intake of breath at that admission but he chose to ignore it.  For the time being at least.  Gently Geralt ran comforting circles down Jaskier’s back, where he knew the scars of many beatings lay.</p><p>“Innocence is so much more than you think Jaskier.”  Geralt murmured.  It was strange.  The usually stoic Witcher suddenly felt as if his heart was pouring out the words he had always had so much difficulty in saying.  “Your heart is innocent.  So full of love and kindness even now.  Even after everything that was done to you.  Vizimir didn’t break you Jaskier.  He hurt you and it will take years to recover from it.  But he didn’t break you.”  </p><p>Jaskier’s blue eyes lifted to meet Geralt.  Pain still highlighted in them but the fear was gone, replaced with trust.  Undeniable trust in Geralt.  “I’m sorry these things happened to you and I will do everything I can to help you get better.  I promise.”  Geralt murmured.  Jaskier nodded softly into Geralt’s chest, tears still running down his face even as he wrapped himself in Geralt’s embrace.</p><p>It would take time.  And Jaskier would never be the man he could have been if he hadn’t met King Vizimir.  But Geralt would do everything in his power to help Jaskier.  Because he loved him.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt felt a soft smile appear on his face as he watched his soulmates face, relaxed in sleep.  They had stayed in Jaskier’s room for most of the day, food being brought up for them.  Jaskier had said he was fine, that Geralt could go about his day but Geralt hadn’t been able to.  Protective instincts had flared at him when he had seen the still pale and drawn face of his soulmate.  Jaskier’s hands shaking minutely where they clutched at Geralt’s shirt where Geralt held Jaskier firmly against his chest.  Geralt had had know doubt that the minute he left the memories would once more engulf Jaskier and Geralt couldn’t bare to imagine his soulmate suffering in silence.  Alone.  So he had stayed.</p><p>At some point, Geralt had managed to coax Jaskier from the floor, the omega’s blue eyes heavy with tiredness but refusing to sleep.  When Geralt asked why he hadn’t slept, the answer had broken Geralt’s heart.  “They come for me in my sleep Geralt.  So much worse than when I’m awake.  The memories…I can’t stop them in my sleep.”  Jaskier had said, tears streaming down his cheeks as he curled into Geralt’s body.</p><p>But eventually Jaskier had fallen asleep and Geralt was thankful for the Witchers ability to not need as much sleep as regular humans.  It meant he could remain awake, ready to comfort Jaskier if needed.  Right now, the omega was curled so his head rested on Geralt’s chest.  Geralt’s strong arms wrapped solidly around him, like a barrier to prevent the terrible memories from taking hold.  The tears that had streamed down Jaskier’s face were gone, leaving blotchy red patches on his cheeks.  His body was still, breathing deep and even in sleep.  Geralt let out a sigh he hadn’t realised he had been holding.</p><p>The fact Jaskier was letting Geralt do this.  Letting Geralt hold him, protect him made Geralt’s heart burst with love and affection.  This omega who had suffered so much pain and hurt should have logically been running terrified from the large white haired Witcher.  But instead, Jaskier was using Geralt as a makeshift pillow, trusting the alpha to protect him.  Geralt didn’t know if it was the soul mark drawing Jaskier to him or the fact Jaskier had come to trust Geralt in his short time in Kaer Morhen.  Either way it didn’t matter.  Geralt had his soulmate in his arms.  A fact he never believed would happen.  And regardless of the circumstances surrounding his and Jaskier’s meeting, Geralt couldn’t been happier.</p><p>A little past midnight, Geralt’s eyes closing as he slipped into a meditative trance lulled into calmness more quickly from Jaskier’s calming heartbeat in his ears, Geralt felt Jaskier stir in his arms.  He opened his eyes softly, rubbing a soft circle on Jaskier’s back as the omega whimpered, shifting in his sleep so he curled more tightly into a ball, head still resting on Geralt’s chest but now buried there.  As if he was hiding from something.</p><p>Geralt heard the calmness of Jaskier’s heart and breathing speed up rapidly as whatever nightmare that had Jaskier in it’s grips continued.  Panic clawed at Geralt’s throat as Jaskier suddenly started to thrash in Geralt’s arms, fighting the constrictions.  Geralt released Jaskier, pain mounting up as Jaskier rolled backwards in sleep, curling into a tight ball so his back was away from Geralt.  Still whimpering, breathing coming out in a panicked gasps.</p><p>Geralt wanted to touch Jaskier but he didn’t want to frighten the sleeping omega.  So instead he settled for gently calling Jaskier’s name, hoping that that would be enough to pull Jaskier from the grip of whatever horror his mind had conjured up.</p><p>Jaskier came awake with a start, hair sweaty as he gasped in a breath, choking as he did so.  Geralt felt his heart break as he watched Jaskier’s back start to shake as silent sobs rocked through the omega.  How many times had Jaskier woken like this?  How many times had the memories of King Vizimir’s court crippled him so thoroughly.</p><p>“It’s ok Jaskier.  You’re safe.”  Geralt grumbled.</p><p>Slowly Jaskier unravelled his limbs and turned in the bed to face Geralt.  His blue eyes shone with unshed tears and he was shaking as he looked at Geralt with so much pain and heartbreak in them.  “You’re still here?”  Jaskier’s voice was quiet and unsure.  As if he didn’t believe that Geralt was really there.</p><p>“Yes Jask.  I’m still here.”  Geralt grunted, wrapping his arms once more around his soulmate and pulling him close.  Jaskier let him, body curling once more into Geralt’s chest as he shook from the horrifying memories.  “Do you want to tell me about it.”  Geralt whispered.  Speaking about her nightmares had always seemed to calm Ciri down and while Geralt was afraid to hear all of the horrific things Jaskier had suffered, if it would help him then he would listen.</p><p>Jaskier was silent for so long Geralt thought he might have gone back to sleep but then Jaskier’s voice suddenly started to speak.  It was quiet and if Geralt had been a regular human he might not have heard it.  Jaskier’s head was buried in Geralt’s chest as he spoke, muffling the words.  Hand curled into Geralt’s chest.</p><p>“You remember the gag you found me in.”  Jaskier whispered, shivering in Geralt’s arms.  Geralt grunted in answer.  The image of Jaskier’s mouth forced open in a metal steel gag, spit and drool running down his face, made Geralt sick to his stomach.  “Vizimir liked to use it as punishment.  I hated it.  I begged him not to use but he always did.”  Jaskier whispered, voice painfilled as he spoke, body tense in Geralt’s arms.  “The first month I arrived I bit him.  I was just so fucking angry and he was feeding me like a fucking dog.  From his hand.  So I bit him.”  Geralt felt pride run through him at the thought of Jaskier fighting back.  Even thought he knew it would have cost his poor brave soulmate to do it.</p><p>“I didn’t think about the consequences.  I just did it.”  Jaskier murmured, pausing for a long minute before continuing.  “He took to me a dungeon.  His guards strung me up from the ceiling and then ordered 50 lashes.  Fucking hell Geralt I never knew there was pain like that.”  Geralt growled in his throat, imaging a much younger Jaskier screaming from pain as a whip was brought on his back.  “When they were done he forced the ring gag in my mouth.  Said it was a fucking lesson.  He made it sound like it was my fault Geralt.  My own fucking fault I was being punished.”  Jaskier was sobbing now and Geralt rocked him gently in his arms, offering what little comfort he could.</p><p>“He left that fucking gag on for a month.  They’d take it out so I could eat and wash.  15 minutes every day.  15 minutes.  I begged him the first time.  Begged him not to put it back on.  He fucking laughed at me Geralt.  He laughed at me and forced it back on anyway.  Like I was nothing.  Like it was all just one big fucking game to him.  He didn’t care.  He brought me back that night, tied me to the end of his bed with that fucking lease, tied my arms behind my back so I couldn’t fight back and forced his cock down my throat.  Choked me on it.  And then left it there while he slept.  Left it there while I choked on it all fucking night.  I thought I was going to die.  I thought he was going to suffocate me in the middle of the night when he fucked my throat in his sleep.”  Jaskier sobbed brokenly, curling tighter in Geralt’s chest.  “I didn’t think I’d ever get out of there.  He would have killed me.  Eventually.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”  Geralt murmured, pain lacing through his heart as he stoked Jaskier’s hair softly.  “I’m so fucking sorry this happened to you.  If I could kill Vizimir again I would.  I’d kill everyone who ever lay a fucking hand on you.  Every single one of those bastards.  If you asked, I’d make them suffer the way they made you suffer.”  Geralt growled.</p><p>Jaskier lifted bright blue eyes up to Geralt.  Love and affection shining in them as he lifted a shaking hand to stroke Geralt’s jaw.  “I know you would.  But I wouldn’t want you to.  Only a monster could do the things they did to me.  An your Geralt, you are not a monster.”  And Geralt felt his heart warm at that.</p><p>…..</p><p>The last 2 months had been the happiest of Jaskier’s entire life.  Geralt was the perfect soulmate.  Everything and more that Jaskier could have wished for.  Kind.  Considerate.  Strong.  Protective.  Ever since Jaskier had found out Geralt was his soulmate, he had spent every night wrapped in Geralt’s arms.  He had moved into Geralt’s own chambers, his own rarely used now.  Geralt’s warm protective embrace slowly chased away the memories and nightmares that had plagued Jaskier every night since arriving in Kaer Morhen.  Slowly the nightmares lessened their hold on Jaskier.  He found sleeping wrapped inside Geralt’s hold that he could sink into an easy relaxed sleep, waking less and less to memories of hands touching and hurting him.</p><p>The night after Jaskier had found out the truth of who Geralt was to him, he had gone down to the great hall for dinner.  He hadn’t been sure what to expect.  Jaskier had still been shaky from the previous day’s onslaught of memories.  But Geralt had kept a firm grip on Jaskier’s hand, offering silent comfort as they took their seats at the table.  Together.  Jaskier had wanted to argue that he was taking someone else seat next to the Witcher warlord but Geralt had quieted him, saying Jaskier’s place was by Geralt’s side.  As long as Jaskier wanted to be there.</p><p>And that was perhaps the best thing about Geralt.  He never pushed Jaskier.  He never pressured the omega into anything he didn’t want to do.  Geralt had been more patient with Jaskier than he thought he would ever deserve.  When they had kissed the first time, Geralt had leant over Jaskier in the bed they shared in Geralt’s room.  Amber eyes warm with affection as he stroked Jaskier’s jaw and asked softly, “May I kiss you.”  And Jaskier felt tears sting at his eyes because no one had ever asked his permission before taking something from Jaskier.</p><p>Jaskier hadn’t said a word, lifting his own head up to meet Geralt’s lips in silent permission.  The kiss was soft, warm and gentle.  Geralt had let Jaskier lead the kiss, let Jaskier decide how deep or how long he had wanted it.  Their first kiss had only been short but the last 2 months Jaskier had let his confidence grow in touching and kissing Geralt.  Casual touches and small pecks of lips when they saw each other in the corridors where now second nature to Jaskier and Geralt.  When Jaskier sat next to Geralt in the great hall, Geralt would wrap an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders.  Keeping his soulmate close and protected while activity ran around them.</p><p>But there was still things Jaskier wasn’t able to give Geralt.  A month into there relationship, Jaskier had pushed past the doubts in his mind and deepened the kiss Geralt was giving him.  The Witcher had grunted in surprise, but still letting Jaskier lead, let the deepening of their kiss happen.  Geralt’s tongue had pressed hesitantly against Jaskier’s lips and Jaskier had let it happen.  Rolling so his back was on the bed, Geralt above him.  Tongues entwined in their passion.  Lust had burst through Jaskier in a way he had never experienced.  Young as he was in Oxenfurt he had still been cautious in the small number of relationships he had had.  Never going further than a few touches and kisses in a back alley.  And his time with King Vizimir had never been about his pleasure.  His needs.  His wants.  Jaskier had just been a thing to be used.  Geralt’s weight on top of him wasn’t anything like the weights of other alpha’s previously.  It was protective, warm and careful.  Geralt didn’t give Jaskier any of his weight, didn’t trap him under him.  Simply kissed Jaskier until he was breathless, lips parted and eyes wide with pleasure.</p><p>And when Jaskier pressed a hand under Geralt’s shirt, Geralt had grinned, amber eyes blown with lust as he stripped the shirt.  “May I?”  Geralt had asked voice soft and caring as he placed a soft hand on Jaskier’s chemise.  Jaskier had nodded, grabbing Geralt into a breath stopping kiss, hand tangled in Geralt’s white hair.  And when Geralt had lifted his shirt from his body and pressed a kiss to the soul mark on Jaskier’s chest, Jaskier had panicked.</p><p>Memories of other lips, biting on the soul mark.  Sneering at the little dandelion there.  Twisting his nipple painfully as they whispered in his ear that Jaskier’s soul mate would never accept him.  Whore.  Slut.</p><p>Geralt had stopped instantly, pulling away from Jaskier as Jaskier fought to even his breathing.  It had taken what felt like an age before Jaskier had managed to pull his mind away from those painful memories, Geralt a constant presence at his side as he rubbed gentle circles on Jaskier’s back.  Coached him into taking even breaths.  They hadn’t tried anything else since.</p><p>Jaskier still found it hard to go to the hot springs with anyone there.  The thought of being naked in front of anyone else was a hard, bringing Jaskier back to memories of 5 years walking naked.  Eyes always watching him.  Hungry.  Lust filled.  And Geralt understood that.  He came down to the hot springs every morning before dawn with Jaskier, waiting outside the hot springs while Jaskier washed.  Ensuring no one accidently walked in while Jaskier was naked.  Vulnerable.  And Jaskier knew he didn’t deserve such kindness.  All of the love and devotion Geralt gave to him so freely.</p><p>Jaskier had expected some resistance from the Witchers when they found out Jaskier was Geralt’s soul mate.  But to Jaskier great surprise, the Witchers had been joyous.  The day Jaskier and Geralt came down to the great hall together, Geralt’s hand wrapped protectively in Jaskier’s they had cheered.  Faces alight with joy that the white wolf had finally found his soul mate.  Yennefer had smiled with approval when she had seen them.  Triss had cried happy tears as she hugged Jaskier close.  Ciri had been ecstatic, climbing on Geralt’s lap as she demanded every detail of what it felt like to have met their soul mates.  The 10 year old curious even now about the mark on her own chest.  Vesemir had smiled warmly at them, a knowing glint in his eyes as if he had always expected Jaskier and Geralt to find each other.</p><p>The only Witcher to show any aversion to Jaskier and Geralt’s relationship was Eskel.  The scarred Witcher had smiled and congratulated them as everyone else did but he had looked at Jaskier warily.  Vesemir had been the one to explain Eskel’s sudden reserved nature around Jaskier.  “Most Witchers never meet their soulmates.”  The old Witcher had said when Jaskier and he sat in quiet silence one day in Kaer Morhen’s library.  “Those of us that met our soul mates before we became warlords couldn’t have the time we wished with them.”  </p><p>“Is that what happened with yours?”  Jaskier had asked and Vesemir had smiled sadly as he nodded.</p><p>“I still walked the path when I met her.  There wasn’t a way for us to be together.  Witchers as we were then walked the path always.  I went to her as often as I could but I know the distance she had from me hurt her as much as it did her.”  Jaskier felt his heart go out to the grey haired Witcher as he spoke.  “We never bonded.  She wanted to but I couldn’t do that.  Not when I knew how dangerous the path was.  One day when I went back to her I found out she’d died. Plague had swept her small village and taken her.”</p><p>“I’m sorry.”  Jaskier said, taking the old Witchers hands on impulse.  Vesemir had smiled a warm sad smile then.</p><p>“Don’t be.  It was many years ago.  After I learnt what happened to her I admit I was lost for a long time.  And then I found my calling in life.  Training the children brought to us ready for the trials.”  Jaskier knew that the wolf school Witchers had all been trained by Vesemir, saw the greying Witcher as one might a Father.  “It’s easier now.  Witchers who are lucky enough to find their soulmates can bond with them.  By bonding with a Witcher, their soulmate will live as long as their Witcher does you see.  You’ve heard that a bonded pair of soul mates will live and die together forever.”  Jaskier nodded.  It was part of the tale of soul mates he had loved the most.  Vesemir smiled softly at him.  “Before, our lives on the path where to dangerous to risk bonding with our soul mates.  Our lives were too easily taken from us so we chose not to bond.  Even if it meant living to watch our soul mates die, it was better than being killed on the path and knowing because of our mistake our soul mate would die with us.  But now we can bond with our soul mates without fear.  Because of Geralt.  He’s given us a chance to live a normal life.  Away from the path.  We still walk the path but the dangers are no longer as grave as they once were.  We can now live our lives with our soulmates.”  Vesemir sighed and his amber eyes took on a sad note once more.</p><p>“Not all people take being bonded to a Witcher well however.  Eskel’s didn’t.  She ran screaming from him.  He never speaks of it and the woman is most likely dead now but I know it still pains him.  A number of Witchers have experienced this.”  Jaskier felt his heart break for the scarred Witcher.  No wonder Eskel watched Jaskier with such mistrust.  He had had his heart broken and didn’t want to see the same thing happen to Geralt.</p><p>Jaskier saw Eskel the next morning walking along the corridor, down to the training grounds.  Geralt was with Jaskier heading down for breakfast and the white haired Witcher waved his good morning to Eskel as the scarred Witcher passed them.  Eskel grunted at Geralt, eyes landing on Jaskier before looking down again.  And Jaskier had remembered Vesemir’s words from the day before and impulse had taken over.  Geralt and Eskel had stood in complete shock and surprise as Jaskier stopped Eskel from walking away with a hand on his shoulder and then pulled the scarred Witcher into a hug.  “I am so truly sorry for what your soulmate did to you Eskel.”  Jaskier had whispered low into the scarred Witcher’s hair.  “But you are loved.  By all your brothers and Yennefer and Triss.  And Ciri.  We all care for you.”  And Eskel had brought his arms around Jaskier and let the omega hold him for a long time.  Jaskier had tried to put as much warmth and affection in that hug before Eskel finally let go.  His amber eyes were wide in shock and emotion.</p><p>“I’m sorry Jaskier.”  Eskel had grunted, dropping his gaze to the floor.</p><p>“You have nothing to apologise for.”  Jaskier had smiled.  “I understand.  You were scared I would break Geralt’s heart just like your soul mate broke yours.  There is nothing to apologise for.”  And Eskel had looked at Jaskier with a mixture of gratitude and confusion before nodding.  He had hesitantly clapped Jaskier on the back before walking back down the corridor away.</p><p>Geralt had wrapped arms around Jaskier’s waist and pulled the omega close.  “Thank you.”  Geralt murmured into Jaskier’s neck.  “He’s needed that for years.”  Jaskier just nodded, letting himself relish in the feeling of his soul mates’ arms wrapped around him.  Not everyone was lucky enough to find their true love.  The other half of their soul.  And Jaskier counted every piece of luck that had brought Geralt to him.</p><p>…….</p><p>Winter had gripped Kaer Morhen harshly in the last 2 months.  The paths becoming more and more impassable with every passing snow storm until the only way out of Kaer Morhen now was a portal.  As winter had drawn closer, the keep had filled with Witcher’s from many different schools.  The 100 odd Witchers that had filled Kaer Morhen since Jaskier had arrived had increased to over 200.  Jaskier had thought that 100 Witchers could make noise but nearly 200 the arrival of all these Witchers had felt like the roof of the great hall would lift at all the noise they made.</p><p>Jaskier’s lute, now sat proudly in its case in Geralt’s bedroom, had never seen such use as it had these last 2 months.  Jaskier performed nearly every night to the loud shouts and cheers of Witchers as they sang to the chorus’.  The first time Jaskier had debuted one of his newly written songs, he had been a bundle of nerves.  Unsure how the Witchers would take the songs he had written about them.  It was a simple one, written of the Witchers on the path, before they had become the warlords they were today.  He needn’t have feared.  The Witchers loved it.  And every other song he debuted afterwards.</p><p>He had mentioned the story he had read in the library of the Witcher in Blaviken off handily to Geralt one afternoon.  It was a rare afternoon were Geralt wasn’t needed in the council rooms and could instead spend the time with Jaskier.  Jaskier had been strumming his lute in a corner of the great hall, fire blazing in front of him.  He had his notebook open on the ballad he had begun surrounding the Witchers view of that tale.  “I wish I could talk to the Witcher who wrote this entry.”  Jaskier had sighed as he dashed away the lyrics he had just written.  “The story just doesn’t ring true enough.”</p><p>“What story?”  Geralt had hummed, eyes lifting from where he was sitting sharpening his swords.</p><p>“Blaviken.  Renfri.  I read the diary entry months ago and I just can’t get the words right.  The emotion the Witcher must have felt.  If I could just speak…”  And here Jaskier had trailed off.  Geralt’s amber eyes were wide, alarm written on his face as he dropped the stone he had been using to sharpen his swords.</p><p>“Geralt.  Dear heart.  What’s wrong?”  Jaskier had asked, placing his lute down and moving so he was kneeling in front of the Witcher.</p><p>“You read that.” </p><p>“Yes…I…It was in the library and I didn’t think anyone would mind.”  Jaskier said, fear clenching in his heart.  Until now the Witchers had never stopped Jaskier from doing what he pleased in Kaer Morhen.  Had his curiosity finally gone to far.  “Geralt?”  Jaskier asked, wincing when his voice came out small and worried.</p><p>“It was mine.  I wrote it.”  Geralt grunted, amber eyes downcast.</p><p>“You’re…you’re the butcher of Blaviken.”  And Jaskier regretted the words instantly.  Geralt flinched violently backwards.  Going to grab his swords, Geralt’s head was downcast as he stood to leave.  Jaskier’s hand instantly grabbed Geralt’s pushing him back down onto the bench.  “I don’t mind Geralt.”</p><p>“I butchered those people.”  Geralt’s voice was soft and full of pain as he turned amber eyes onto Jaskier.  Jaskier stroked a gentle line down Geralt’s jaw.</p><p>“If what I read in that journal was true, you had no choice.  They forced you.  You did what you had to do to survive.”  Geralt still wouldn’t look at Jaskier.  Shame obvious in his face.  “Geralt, dear heart listen to me.  You are not a monster.  You are not a butcher.  And I am so sorry that you have ever been called those things.”  Geralt’s head lifted then and Jaskier smiled warmly at him.  Gently, Jaskier dropped his head so he could kiss away the final pieces of doubt from his darling Witchers face.</p><p>……</p><p>Jaskier had done so well the last 2 months.  His mind was slowly learning to cope with the memories of the last 5 years of his life.  He had learnt to stop himself flinching.  Sudden movements still had him tensing but Jaskier no longer flinched from those hands.  He could handle the friendly touching of the Witchers, Ciri, Yennefer, Triss.  He relished the loving kisses and embraces Geralt gave him.  His mind no longer betrayed him at random moments.  The box he kept those memories was now more robust.  The cracks sealed, stopping all but the most persistent memories from invading Jaskier’s mind.  Geralt’s warm protective embraces helped.  Jaskier still had moments when the memories flooded through him.  Most often in the form of nightmares.  But they were fewer than they had ever been.  Jaskier was learning how to deal with the fall out of those memories without losing himself to panic.</p><p>He was coping.  Until he wasn’t.</p><p>The paths had been closed coming up the Kaer Morhen for 2 weeks.  The days were shorter, nights longer and so much colder.  Jaskier found himself unable to walk the drafty halls of Kaer Morhen without a thick doublet wrapped tightly around him.  Geralt’s warmth wrapped around Jaskier at night, stopping the draft from the windows finding Jaskier.</p><p>Jaskier was restless.  His hands moving in restless energy as he placed a book down onto the table.  He needed to do something.  He needed to…he needed to nest.  And that thought had Jaskier freezing in place.  Panic flaring up as he realised what the restless energy was.  A need to nest.  To nest ready for his upcoming heat.</p><p>And the fragile hold Jaskier had held for 2 months finally broke.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Please read the warnings in this chapter before reading.</p><p>Mentions of dubious consent in this chapter but still definitely non con</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Geralt.  Something’s wrong with Jaskier.”  Letho one of the Witchers of the Viper school that had decided to Winter in Kaer Morhen barged into the council room where Geralt was sat running through correspondence from the White Wolfs lands with Vesemir.</p><p>Geralt abandoned the paper in his hand, jumping to his feet immediately.  “Where is he?”  Geralt growled, protective instincts going crazy as he stormed past the Witcher.</p><p>“Library.”  Letho’s voice followed Geralt up the hallway, the white haired Witcher already running in that direction.</p><p>“We don’t know what the fucks wrong.”  Lambert’s growled, voice full of anger and fear when Geralt made his way to the library.  A group of Witchers all stood outside the doors to the library, amber eyes fixed on the door but not moving.  Geralt just grunted, pushing past Lambert to get to Jaskier.</p><p>He opened the door slowly, shutting it softly behind him as he searched for his soul mate among the stacks of books.  It took Geralt 3 scans of the room before he finally spotted him.  Jaskier was huddled in a corner, wedged between 2 book cases, knees brought up to his chest, rocking back and forth.  His whole body shook and Geralt could hear the shaky gasps of breaths coming from his soulmate from here.</p><p>Approaching cautiously, Geralt bent down so he was at the same height as Jaskier.  He expected Jaskier to not recognise him, so lost in the memories and panic that he wouldn’t recognise his soul mate standing there.  Jaskier had been doing so well these last 2 months.  Turning into the joyful happy person Geralt just knew Jaskier had always meant to be.  Geralt couldn’t understand what could have happened to send Jaskier back to this rocking, terrified shell.</p><p>“I can’t do it.  Geralt please help me.  I can’t do it again.  Not again.”  Jaskier begged when his blue eyes lifted to meet Geralt’s.  There was a hysterical note to Jaskier’s words.  Eyes wide in terror as he rocked back and forth, shaking his head.  “Please not again.  Don’t make me.  Please.”  Jaskier sobbed, tears streaming down his face.</p><p>“What Jaskier?  Did someone try to force you?”  Geralt growled, anger tearing up his chest.  If someone had touched Jaskier then Geralt would tear them limb from limb.</p><p>Jaskier just shook his head, sobbing loudly.  “Geralt I can’t.  I can’t do it.  Please make it stop.  Please.”  Jaskier’s voice was loud, hysterical in it’s begging as he shook.  His breathing came out in uneven gasps, voice choking as the omega tried desperately to breath past the violent panic that had over taken him.  “Geralt.  I can’t.  I can’t.  I can’t.”  Jaskier just kept repeating this, voice getting more and more hysterical as he continued.</p><p>“Get Yennefer.”  Geralt shouted through the closed library doors, knowing the Witchers behind the door would hear him. </p><p>He didn’t know what to do.  Jaskier was panicking more than Geralt had ever seen him and Geralt couldn’t seem to get through to him.  Jaskier didn’t even register when Geralt gently rubbed his back as he had done so many times previously when Jaskier had woken from nightmares.  He just kept repeating a litany of, “I can’t.  I can’t.  I can’t.”</p><p>By the time Yennefer pushed into the library, Geralt was ready to tear his hair out.  Jaskier hadn’t moved from his spot wedged between the bookshelves, rocking back and forth and violently shaking his head.  “What happened?”  Geralt just shook his head dumbly to the question Yennefer asked.  The violet eyes sorceresses’ eyes were wide with worry as she knelt next to Geralt in front of Jaskier.  “Jaskier?”  She asked, voice hesitant.</p><p>Jaskier didn’t even acknowledge her.  Gasping and sobbing and repeating over and over again.  “I can’t.  I can’t.  I can’t.”</p><p> Yennefer’s violet eyes matched Geralt, displaying every bit of worry Geralt himself was feeling.  She placed a gentle hand onto Jaskier’s knee.  A run of chaos built up and then Jaskier’s eyes were rolling backwards.  His body slumped forwards, head banging onto his awkwardly bent knees.  Body completely limp.</p><p>“What did you do?”  Geralt asked, turning panicked amber eyes to fix Yennefer with an accusing look.  He reached a hand to stroke Jaskier’s soft brown hair.  </p><p>“I’m sorry Geralt.  Something…I had to knock him out.  He wasn’t going to be able to stop himself otherwise.”  Yennefer said, voice filled with pain as she stroked a gentle hand on Jaskier’s knee.  “What caused this?”</p><p>“I don’t know.”  Geralt growled, panic and worry running through him.  Jaskier had been fine.  He had been so much better.  “He said he couldn’t do it.  He fucking begged me not to make him Yenn but I don’t know what he meant.”</p><p>“Did someone touch him?”  Yennefer’s eyes flashed dangerously, speaking of murder if someone had.</p><p>Geralt shrugged helplessly.  “I don’t know.  Yenn I don’t know.”</p><p>“Get him to your rooms.”  Yennefer said, voice filled with raw pain as she stood.  “When he wakes, he should be able to explain.”</p><p>Geralt just nodded, wrapping a gentle arm under Jaskier’s legs.  If someone had touched Jaskier.  If someone had hurt Jaskier.  Fuck.  Geralt had promised Jaskier he was safe.  Promised his soul mate that no one would ever hurt Jaskier again.</p><p>Jaskier was light in Geralt’s arms as he lifted him.  His limp head lolled onto Geralt’s chest as Geralt walked out of the library.  The Witchers Geralt passed on his way to his rooms looked at the unconscious Jaskier with worry in their eyes and Geralt felt himself holding Jaskier closer.  All of these Witchers were his brothers.  Geralt trusted them with his life.  Had trusted them with the life of his mate.  And someone had betrayed that trust.  Someone had hurt Jaskier.  And when Geralt found out who there would be hell to pay.</p><p>…..</p><p>Jaskier came round slowly.  His head felt like cotton wool, limbs heavy on the bed.  And when did he get to a bed.  The last thing Jaskier remembered was reading in the library and then…nothing.  Groaning, Jaskier peeled his eye lids open, surprised to find Geralt kneeling by the bed, amber eyes anxious as he took Jaskier’s hand and squeezed.</p><p>“What h’ppned?”  Jaskier asked, surprised to find his speech slurring.  Geralt just looked at Jaskier with so much pain and worry that Jaskier didn’t understand.  “’m fine, dear hear.  J’st. fine.”  Jaskier slurred, hand heavy as he tried to lift it to stroke Geralt’s cheek.</p><p>“What’s wrong with him Yenn?”  Geralt’s voice asked and Jaskier was surprised to find Yennefer standing behind Geralt.  Her violet eyes piercing in her face.  Anger and worry warring in that expression.</p><p>“’m fine.”  Jaskier tried again, voice quiet even to his own ears.</p><p>“The spell I used to put him under.  It’s still wearing off.”  Yennefer’s words didn’t make any sense as Jaskier struggled to sit up.  His world spun as Geralt helped him position himself so his back was to the cushions.</p><p>“Drink this.”  Geralt offered, handing Jaskier a glass filled with water.  Jaskier hummed his thanks, hands shaking as he took the glass and took long gulps.  When he was done his head felt less like cotton wool.  Geralt placed the cup behind them on the dresser and fixed Jaskier with a worried gaze once more.</p><p>“What happened?”  Jaskier asked again, glad to find while his voice was breathy he was no longer slurring his words.</p><p>Geralt and Yennefer shared a worried look before Geralt finally answered.  “I don’t know.  I found you in the library.  Jask, you were near catatonic in panic.”  Jaskier just frowned at Geralt.</p><p>“I don’t…I don’t remember…”  The last thing Jaskier remembered was the library.  Feeling restless.  Like he needed to do something…</p><p>“Jaskier, did someone touch you?”  Yennefer asked, shaking Jaskier from his thoughts as he tried to chase his scattered memories.  “Did someone hurt you?”</p><p>“I…no…”  Jaskier shook his head, frowning as he tried to understand Yennefer’s words.</p><p>Geralt squeezed Jaskier’s hand gently, amber eyes settling on Jaskier with a warm smile.  “We won’t be mad at you if someone did Jask.  You can tell us.  You can tell me.”</p><p>Jaskier just shook his head.  “No.  No one touched me.  No one hurt me.”  Geralt and Yennefer seemed to breath a collective sigh of relief at that and Jaskier felt guilt well up in him.  He hadn’t meant to scare them.  But he couldn’t even remember what had caused him to panic so much that he had blacked out.</p><p>“Then what happened Jask?”  Geralt asked, voice soft.</p><p>“I was in the library…”  Jaskier started, voice shaking, chasing the memories desperately.  He hadn’t blacked out in months.  The last time being….and fuck no Jaskier wouldn’t remember that.  He couldn’t.  Jaskier didn’t realise he was shaking again until Geralt’s gentle hand rubbing circles on his back brought him to again.  He was hugging his knees to his chest and small tears were running down his chest.  “I’m sorry.”  Jaskier whispered, shame running through him.</p><p>“You have nothing to apologise for.”  Geralt murmured, kissing Jaskier’s hand softly.</p><p>“You said you where in the library?”  Yennefer asked, voice soft as she settled at the bottom of Jaskier’s bed.</p><p>Jaskier nodded.  “Yes…I was feeling restless…I can’t…I…”  Jaskier shook his head, fear suddenly gripping him as he realised why he was restless.  “I needed to nest.  I need to nest...No…no….please no….not again.”  Jaskier sobbed, body shaking violently as he curled into his legs.  Panic gripping him at the knowledge of that simple fact.</p><p>“Jaskier, sweetheart.  I don’t understand.”  Geralt’s voice was soft as he squeezed Jaskier’s hand in his.</p><p>Jaskier lifted his head up to face Geralt, blue eyes full of tears and heartbreak.  “My heat, Geralt.  It’s coming.  I can’t do it.  Please…not again…please.”  Jaskier sobbed brokenly.  Before he realised what was happening, Geralt was on the bed, wrapping arms around his body.</p><p>He curled into Geralt’s chest, sobbing and fisting his hand in Geralt’s shirt.  Images of being chained to a bed.  Gag buckled to his face, keeping his mouth forced open.  The need and want driving through him as King Vizimir called a start to the entertainment.  Cocks forcing their way into his arse as another knelt on his arms, forcing their way into his mouth.  Not caring when Jaskier choked as the collar choked him, leased as tightly as he was to the bedframe the way the man thrust forwards not allowing him enough give to stop his neck from being compressed.</p><p>And then a memory that Jaskier had buried.  Buried so far down he didn’t even know it existed.  Blacking out when he realised the truth.  A way to save himself.  A way to preserve the tiny part of Jaskier’s mind that wasn’t so irrevocably damaged.</p><p>Being unchained from the bed.  Need, want and lust driving through him as hands pulled him to his feet.  Surrounded on all sides by alpha’s.  King Vizimir’s laugh as pre-cum smeared it’s way across Jaskier’s belly.  Legs slick and wet from slick.  Desperate.  Needy.  He wanted this. Needed this.  Dropping to his knees without being asked, letting them thrust into him.  Lifting his still gagged mouth up, whining in need as a cock wafted in front of him.  Mouth chasing the feeling of that cock.  People laughing as someone slapped his cock.  Cuming untouched as the man in his arse found his prostate.  Groaning in pleasure when the man in front finally gave him his cock.  Chocking himself on it.  Cock still hard between his leg as he whined when the man behind him exited his arse.  He felt so empty.  Body craving the next cock.  Desperate to be filled.  To be used.</p><p>And Jaskier screamed, thrashing in Geralt’s arms at the knowledge his own mind had hidden from him.  He had wanted it.  He had let them do that to him and so much more.  Vizimir’s words of entertainment rang through Jaskier’s head, taunting him.  He had been exactly that.  Entertainment.  So desperate and needy they could have, did do anything they wanted to him.  And Jaskier hadn’t cared.</p><p>Jaskier screamed again, black dots flashing in his vision.  He welcomed them gladly.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So this chapter went a completely different way than originally planned.  I hope you all enjoyed and thanks again for all the reviews.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: please read the tags before reading.  I've updated the tags since this was last updated partly because of some of the things said in this chapter so please re-read.</p><p>As always, please enjoy.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt felt his heart wrench at the sound of the scream that ran from Jaskier’s lips.  Full of heartbreak and pain and fear.  Jaskier thrashed, smacking against Geralt’s chest in convulsive hits as he screamed and screamed and screamed.  Geralt felt tears run from his eyes as he held Jaskier through the thrashing.  Yennefer’s violet eyes were shining with tears as she placed a hand on Jaskier’s forehead.</p><p>Jaskier screamed, thrashing harshly in Geralt’s grip as Yennefer pushed chaos into his mind.  Geralt like his heart was ripping open at the sight.  As Jaskier’s eyes fell closed, body falling limply against Geralt, Geralt looked up at Yennefer in worry and disbelief.  Jaskier’s screams still echoing harshly in his ears.</p><p>Geralt looked down at the unconscious omega in his arms with his heart in his mouth.  “What the fuck just happened Yenn?”  Geralt asked, voice breaking.</p><p>Yennefer’s violet eyes were shining with tears, hand shaking as she squeezed gently on Jaskier’s leg.  “His mind was trying to protect him.”  Yennefer said, voice shaking as she reached her chaos into Jaskier’s mind, eyes closed and hand shaking on her grip on Jaskier’s knee.  “There were things that happened during his heats that he never wanted to admit even to himself.”  A silent tear spilled down Yennefer’s face.  “His mind buried it away so he wouldn’t have to see it.  Didn’t have to know it ever happened.  Fucking hell Geralt.  Those memories he kept hidden from himself.  There worse than anything else Vizimir did to him.  So much fucking worse.”</p><p>“He was getting better.”  Geralt said, voice breaking as tears ran down his face.  A large hand was cupping the back of Jaskier’s head, stroking the sweaty brown hair.  Rocking Jaskier gently against his chest.  “He was getting better Yennefer.  What happened?”</p><p>“He realised his heat was coming.  This week.  It broke the barriers he’d erected to protect himself from those memories Geralt.”  Geralt looked down at Jaskier’s face, scrunched in a frown even now in unconsciousness.  Trapped inside his own memories.  Re-living every horrific moment over and over again.  Trapped.</p><p>“What do we do Yenn?”</p><p>“I don’t know, Geralt.  I don’t know.”</p><p>…….</p><p> </p><p>“Yenn.  Is Jaskier ok?  We heard screaming?”  Triss’ voice was filled with worry as Yennefer stepped into the distillery.  Yennefer just shook her head, collapsing into a chair.  She had seen the look on the Witchers faces as she walked the corridors of Kaer Morhen.  They had all heard that blood curdling scream Jaskier had given as his mind broke under the pressure of keeping all those horrors hidden.</p><p>“Yenn?”  Ciri’s voice was small from her place at Triss’ side.  Emerald eyes blown wide with fear and worry as she looked at Yennefer.  Yennefer motioned Ciri to come closer, wrapping her adoptive daughter into a hug.  Ciri was crying silently, wrapped in Yennefer’s arms as the violet eyed sorceress looked at Triss.</p><p>“Ciri, I need to talk to Triss for a while.  Can you go and find Vesemir. Or Eskel and Lambert.  I’m sure they’ll be glad to see you.”  Yennefer said, voice soft as she brushed a piece of hair from Ciri’s face.</p><p>“I want to see Jask.”  Ciri argued and Yennefer shook her head softly.</p><p>“He’s not very well at the moment.  But I’m sure he’ll see you when he’s better.”  Ciri didn’t look like she believed Yennefer and to be truthful Yennefer didn’t know if she believed herself either.  She had seen the way Jaskier’s mind had crumpled in on itself as memories long since buried overran him.</p><p>“Tell him I said I hope he feels better.”  Ciri said.</p><p>“I will.”  Yennefer promised, watching as Ciri exited the distillery.</p><p>As soon as Ciri had gone, Triss turned worried eyes to fix on Yennefer.  “What happened?”  She demanded and Yennefer sighed.</p><p>“Jaskier felt his heat coming.  Not yet but it’s due this week.”  Triss just looked at Yennefer with a confused frown on her face.  “There were…there were things that happened during his heats that his mind hid from him.  When he realised that his heat was coming again…I don’t know what happened Triss but it was like something broke in his mind and all those memories just overran him.”</p><p>“Is there anything we can do?”  Triss asked and Yennefer shook her head.  She had seen the clear image of the box Jaskier kept the memories of his time as Vizimir’s sex slave buried in when she had entered his mind.  A battered broken thing that wouldn’t even hold a single one of those memories now.  And Yennefer didn’t think her chaos could help re-build that small protection Jaskier had built in his mind.  It was something his own mind had made and only his own mind could re-build it.</p><p>“Is there a way to stop his heat?”  Yennefer asked, focusing on the immediate problem.</p><p>“I’ll find one.”  Triss promised.  Yennefer nodded her thanks.  At least they might be able to help Jaskier in one small way.  If nothing else.</p><p>……</p><p>“Geralt?”  Jaskier’s soft voice breathed from the bed and Geralt was there in an instant, hand wrapping around Jaskier’s own one.  He’d moved from the bed hours ago, not knowing if Jaskier would want to awake to have someone touching him or not.  There had been a few concerned questions flung through the door but Geralt had growled low in his throat, scaring most of the Witchers away.  No one had come in the room since Yennefer had left.  Food and water left at the door, so as not to disturb Geralt and his soulmate.</p><p>“Jaskier.  You’re ok.”  Geralt said, relief flooding his voice as blue tired eyes looked at him.</p><p>“I’m sorry.”  Jaskier whispered, voice barely audible and holding a broken quality.  “I’m so fucking sorry.”</p><p>“It’s not your fault Jaskier.  None of this is your fault.”  Geralt said, squeezing Jaskier’s hand and running a soothing hand in Jaskier’s hair.  Jaskier just shook his head, tears leaking down his face.</p><p>“I didn’t know.”  Jaskier said, hand limp in Geralt’s hand.  “Please understand Geralt.  I didn’t know.”  Geralt didn’t know what Jaskier was talking about as the tears still brushed down Jaskier’s face.  “I always thought they forced me into those permissions.  I didn’t know it was a lie.  It was all a lie.”  Jaskier sobbed.</p><p>Geralt ran a gentle finger down Jaskier’s face, collecting the tears that fell there.  “I don’t understand Jask.”</p><p>Jaskier turned sad, tear filled eyes up at Geralt.  “I wanted it Geralt.  I fucking wanted it.  They raped me and I fucking wanted it.”</p><p>“No you didn’t Jask.” Geralt murmured, not understanding what Jaskier meant.  What Vizimir had done to Jaskier was rape.  Pure and simple.  “He raped you.  Jaskier listen to me.  He raped you.  You didn’t want it.”  Jaskier just shook his head, tears still running down his face.</p><p>“Vizimir always called my heats an entertainment.  I always thought it was because I was so out of it I couldn’t fight back.  I didn’t realise…fuck Geralt I’m so sorry.  I’ve lied to you.  All these months you thought I was a victim but I can’t be.  How the fuck can I be a victim when I needed it.  Needed them to fuck me so I didn’t feel empty.  Wanted it.”  Jaskier was sobbing, shoulders shaking as he curled inwards.</p><p>“Listen to me Jaskier.”  Geralt said, voice serious as he stroked a hand through Jaskier’s hair.  “You did not want it.  You did not need it.”</p><p>“I did.”  Jaskier’s voice was broken as he said it.  Face not believing a word Geralt said.  “Please forgive me Geralt.  Please.”</p><p>“There’s nothing to forgive.”  Geralt whispered, kissing Jaskier’s sweaty forehead as gently as he could.  “The very fact your upset now shows that you didn’t want it.  It doesn’t matter if you thought you did you didn’t.  What they did to you was rape.”</p><p>“But…”  Jaskier tried but Geralt interrupted him, racking his brain desperately for anything he knew on omega heats.  </p><p>“I don’t know a lot about omega heats Jask.”  Geralt whispered.  “But I know what you think you felt when you were in your heat wasn’t real.  It wasn’t what you really thought.”  Omega’s didn’t generally come near alpha’s.  Afraid of the rumours viciously spread across the continent that Witchers, being all alpha’s, hurt their omega bed partners in a frenzy of lust.  Even the omega’s Geralt had met on the path before becoming a warlord had stayed far away from him.  Alpha’s glaring at the Witcher in overprotective anger when they saw him even glance at their omega’s.  So Geralt didn’t understand omega’s.  But he knew that an omega’s heat was specifically designed for re-production.  Even for a male omega, who was infertile, the need was still there.  So anything Jaskier had felt in his heats was just his biology reacting to what Geralt was sure was a room full of alpha’s.  Not what Jaskier really wanted.</p><p>“It felt real.”  Jaskier whispered.</p><p>“I’m sorry this happened to you Jaskier.”  Geralt said, repeating what he had said over a hundred times before and what he was sure he would have to say a hundred times again.  If not more.  “But you have to know you didn’t want any of that.  Just because your body reacted to it doesn’t mean you wanted it.”</p><p>Jaskier sobbed brokenly, clutching at Geralt’s hand.  “Hold me.  Please.”  Geralt didn’t need to be told twice.  He climbed into the bed, letting the omega glue himself to Geralt’s side.  Jaskier buried his head into Geralt’s chest, tears flowing down his face as Geralt wrapped around Jaskier’s body.</p><p>…..</p><p>Jaskier didn’t know how long he spent glued to Geralt’s side when a knock sounded on the door and Yennefer and Triss walked in.  They looked at Jaskier with worry and pain in their eyes and Jaskier dropped his head in embarrassment.  What must they think of him.  A slutty, pathetic whore.  Willing and ready to be raped.  Jaskier couldn’t force back the sob that ran from his throat.</p><p>And Geralt.  Sweet loving, caring Geralt, who deserved a soulmate who didn’t get off on being raped, held him close.  “It’s ok Jask.”  Geralt breathed, pressing a soft kiss to Jaskier’s hair.  “It’s not your fault.  None of it was your fault.”</p><p>“Jaskier?”  Triss’ voice from the bottom of the bed.  Jaskier didn’t move from where his face was buried in Geralt’s chest.  He couldn’t bare to see any of them.  Couldn’t bare to see their faces.  Their looks of disgust at the knowledge of Jaskier’s enjoyment.</p><p>“Jask.”  Geralt’s voice was gruff, hand coming to cup Jaskier’s cheeks.  Jaskier let Geralt lift his head so his bright blue eyes met those warm amber ones.  He didn’t deserve Geralt.  Geralt deserved so much more than him.  “It wasn’t your fault Jaskier.  What your thinking right now.  It’s not real.  You didn’t want it.”  And Jaskier hated the way Geralt sounded so sure.  As if he knew.  As if he knew the want.  The need that had carved it’s way through Jaskier body and soul when he had been in the throws of his heat.  When he had willingly let those alpha’s rape him.</p><p>“Jaskier.”  Yennefer’s voice now, moving so if Jaskier lifted his head slightly from Geralt’s chest he could see her face.  “Geralt’s right.  You’re mind is playing tricks on you right now.  You didn’t enjoy what they did to you.”  Jaskier felt Geralt’s hold on him tighten. </p><p>“I did.”  Jaskier whispered.  “I remember.  I didn’t before but I do now.”  Jaskier whispered.  He shouldn’t be taking comfort in Geralt’s arms.  Geralt shouldn’t be holding Jaskier like this, offering him comfort when Jaskier had done nothing to deserve it.</p><p>“You’re remembering it wrong.”  Yennefer’s voice was quiet.  “I can…I can try to sort through your memories.  Show you the truth.  If you’ll let me.”</p><p>Jaskier finally lifted tear filled eyes to meet Yennefer, a sob raising in his throat as he looked at her.  His memories were so jumbled.  Everything that had been done all merging in Jaskier’s brain.  All coming back to that one memory.  Hidden for so long in Jaskier’s own mind.  Now free to torment him over and over and over again.  The need and want of his heat.  “I can help.”  Yennefer said, voice quiet and Jaskier found himself nodding.  He needed to know the truth.  He needed to know every detail his mind had hiden from him.  It was the only way he could make sense of any of it.  To understand why he felt like he had wanted their hands on his body, raping him.  Otherwise he thought he might go mad.</p><p>“Yenn?”  Geralt said, voice filled with worry.  Yennefer sent him a sharp look.</p><p>“It’s Jaskier’s decision.”  Geralt nodded his head in answer.  “I don’t know if it will help Jaskier but…”</p><p>“I need to understand.”  Jaskier said, pulling himself from Geralt’s hold.  “I need to know what happened.  All of it.”  And Yennefer nodded her head.</p><p>“Lie down.”  Jaskier did as instructed, head resting on the soft pillow.  Geralt appeared above Jaskier, amber eyes ablaze with worry. </p><p>“You’re sure.”  Geralt whispered and Jaskier nodded.</p><p>“I need to know what happened to me.  I need to understand it.”  Jaskier whispered and Geralt dropped his ehad to give Jaskier a soft kiss on the lips.  “I’ll be ok.” Jaskier whispered, caressing a finger across Geralt’s jaw.  He hoped he sounded re-assuring past the nerves he felt.  He knew what those memories held and he was terrified.  But he had to know.</p><p>Yennefer placed hands on Jaskier’s temples.  Jaskier could feel the tendrils of Yennefer’s magic settling around his head.  She pressed down on Jaskier’s mind and Jaskier felt his eyes roll backwards as he was thrust into those memories.</p><p>…….</p><p>….Heat ran through Jaskier’s skin burning through him like a fever.  He felt empty.  Whining past the gag in his mouth he heard voices surround him.  “Needy little fuck isn’t he.”  A voice said, coming up to Jaskier and pushing fingers into Jaskier’s desperate mouth.  Jaskier moaned, gagging as fingers brushed at the ack of his throat.  That wasn’t what he needed.  Jaskier whined, struggling against the ties binding his arms behind his back.</p><p>Slick ran down his legs, creating a pool on the rug flooring he was lying on.  His cock felt heavy on his stomach as pre cum dribbled into his belly button.  “Messy little slut Dandelion.”  Vizimr murmured, gathering the mess from Jaskier’s belly on his fingers and pressing them into Jaskier’s mouth.  Jaskier moaned,.  The salty taste of his own cum made his stomach roil violently as he shuddered.</p><p>“Bend him over here.”  Vizimir said and Jaskier felt someone tug at the leash attached to his collar.  He choked, black spots dancing through his vision as he was tugged towards the low table.  A hand fisted in his collar, hauling his limbs up.  The table cut into the flesh of his belly, making Jaskier whine in pain as he was pushed down.  The lease was tied tightly to the table leg, making Jaskier’s head lie sideways on the table.  Mouth open and ready for fucking.</p><p>“Good slut.  Such a needy fucking slut.”  Vizimir murmured, hands exploring Jaskier’s arse.  He spread Jaskier cheeks and Jaskier flushed at the humiliation ran trough him.  His cock still leaked pre-cum, bouncing across the bottom of the table as Vizimir shoved fingers into Jaskier’s arse.  Jaskier felt relief buzz through him at the feeling of something finally itching the insatiable itch there.  He panted through the gag, trying to push backwards but his limbs where like jelly.  Vizimir chuckled, wiping his cum covered fingers on Jaskier’s inside thigh.</p><p>Jaskier whined at the loss of the fingers and then moaned as a cock head thrust into his arse.  Vizimir chuckled, hand fisting in Jaskier’s hair.  He forced Jaskier’s head up, choking him on the collar forcing him down.  Black spots danced in Jaskier’s vision as Vizimir thrust sharply into Jaskier’s arse, hitting his prostate with unerring accuracy.  A cock suddenly appeared in front of Jaskier’s mouth.  Jaskier whined, trying to pull away but his head was held too tightly in Vizimir’s hand and by the collar around his throat.  The man thrust him, setting a rhythm that was exactly opposite of Vizimir.  As Vizimir thrust in he thrust out.  As he thrust out Vizimir thrust in.</p><p>Jaskier struggled, feeling pain creep up his arse and his throat constricted harshly against the cock choking him.  Jaskier’s face was pressed flushed to the mans cock, a hand fisting in his collar, choking him.  Distantly he could feel Vizimir slap forwards, groaning his pleasure as he filled Jaskier full of cum.  Jaskier choked, struggling against the bonds and hands holding him down as another cock appeared in his hole, forcing Vizimir’s cum back in him. He was still being choked on this man’s cock.  Throat contracting and making wet squelching noises as he pulled back once and then thrust down deeply, shoving Jaskier’s nose deep into his pubic hair.  A gush of warm salty liquid filled Jaskier and he felt like he was drowning.  And then hand covered his nose, cutting off the rest of Jaskier’s airway as the man cummed down his throat.</p><p>When he finally let go, Jaskier hacked wildly.  Head still tied down by the lease on the table.  Mouth wide open dribbling spit and come from his mouth.  His cock was hard against his belly.  A hand was fondling it as a man shoved in and out of Jaskier repeatedly.  Jaskier screamed when another man came towards him.  Cock ready to shove into his throat.</p><p>The haze of the heat slowly started to fade as Jaskier realised the true horror of what was happening.  The need and want for something to fill him still ran through Jaskier.  His body still responding to the touches and thrusts happening behind him.  But his mind screamed.  Screamed and screamed and screamed that he didn’t want this.  Didn’t want any of this.</p><p>The next man just laughed, shoving his cock into Jaskier’s still screaming mouth.  He groaned, shoving the whole cock down Jaskier’s throat as he went.  Jaskier choked.  A feeling of cum dribbling down his legs and another man shoving into him.  Black sports danded in his vision as the hand holding his collar tightened, restricting his airway further.  Nails dug harshly into his balls, tugging his hard cock harshly.  A harsh slap to the head and Jaskier was coming just at the same time as the collar tightened to the point where Jaskier couldn’t breathed.  He choked, thrashing as much as he could as he fought to breath, cock shoved down his throat, twitching inside his throat.  And Jaskier passed out.</p><p>When he finally came to again he was chained to the bed.  His mouth still forced open by the ring gag.  A plug fastened into his arse.  Arms chained above him, collar attached via lease to the headboard.  His legs were chained to the bottom of the bed as well, leaving him spread eagled and whole body on display.  Jaskier’s whole body ached.  His throat felt raw.  His lower body felt numb.  When he breathed there was a sharp pain in his ribs and Jaskier distantly wondered if one was broken or just bruised.  His cock sat flaccid against the bed, throbbing in pain along with his heartbeat.</p><p>A hand trailed down Jaskier’s torso, making Jaskier flinch again the bonds.  The movement doing nothing but reminding him of every pain in him.  Vizimir stood above Jaskier, smiling softly as he placed a hand on one of Jaskier’s nipples and twisted.  Jaskier croaked, voice past the point of being able to make any real sounds of protest.  </p><p>“You were perfect Dandelion.”  Vizimir crooned, placing 2 fingers into Jaskier’s mouth and capturing his tongue.  He pulled the muscle out of Jaskier’s mouth, twisting it between his fingers.  “Utterly perfect.  Best entertainment we’ve had in years.”  Vizimir released Jaskier’s tongue, dropping his head to kiss Jaskier’s open mouth.  Jaskier croaked as Vizimir’s tongue dropped into his mouth, licking a stripe up Jaskier’s own tongue.  “I can’t wait for your next heat Dandelion.”  Vizimir said, pulling back and stroking Jaskier’s cock.  He pulled at Jaskier’s balls, making Jaskier cry at the pain that caused.  “I can’t fucking wait.”</p><p>And then he left.  Left Jaskier lying there, trussed up and covered in body fluids.  Tears streaming down his face as every small movement caused flame to burn through him and make the cum trapped inside him slosh.  He felt bloated from it.</p><p>When someone finally came in to free him and clean him up, Jaskier’s mind had slowly locked the memory away.  Hiding it away so Jaskier could forget it all.  Forget everything they had done to him on that first heat in Redania….</p><p>…….</p><p>Blue eyes slowly opened, finding Geralt, Triss and Yennefer still standing in front of him.  They had barely moved and Jaskier wondered how long he’d been out.  Only minutes it would appear but it had felt like days to Jaskier, reliving the memories of every single heat.  Every single time they had brutalised him past the point of remembering.</p><p>“I…”  Jaskier said, surprised to find his throat wasn’t croaky.  That it wasn’t raw from being fucked so many times.  When he moved to sit up he was surprised to find there was no pain.  No ache in every part of his muscles from being raped repeatedly.  From being trapped and unable to move.  His hand moved to his jaw, surprised to find it free.  He felt the emptiness in his arse.  The plug from his nightmares gone.  He reached a hand to his throat, feeling the skin there.  No collar.  No lease choking him as they dragged and pulled it.</p><p>Jaskier turned blue eyes to Geralt.  Amber eyes were watching him, worry plain on his face.  Jaskier lifted a hand to touch Geralt’s cheek.  It trembled as it reach him and Geralt instantly moved forwards, stopping Jaskier’s trembling muscles from having to move to far.</p><p>A strange sensation suddenly ran through Jaskier.  A feeling deep in his body that wanted him to curl up under a pile of blankets and furs.  To nest with Geralt holding him safe in that nest.  Offering the comfort his body so desperately craved when Jaskier was at his most vulnerable.  As he remembered the reason this chain of events had started Jaskier thought he would fall into a pit of despair and panic but instead…instead all he felt was acceptance.  There was nothing that could be done.  His heat was coming.  And while the knowledge made Jaskier feel sick to the stomach, memories long since buried pushing at his mind, he didn’t feel the overwhelming fear and terror.</p><p>How could he, when his soulmate was sitting here.  Amber eyes fixing Jaskier with a look of such affection.  Jaskier wasn’t a fool.  He knew the next week would be hard but he also knew he wouldn’t be alone.  He had Geralt.  And with Geralt, he would always be safe.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This chapter went off on a tangent again so I hope you all enjoy.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning for mentions of non con</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Geralt gathered Jaskier into his arms on the bed, holding him close as Jaskier’s wide blue eyes looked at him with such trust that it made Geralt terrified.  He had no idea what Jaskier’s mind showed him in the minutes he was under.  Geralt had watched with heartbreak as Jaskier thrashed against the bed, moaning in pain, tears streaming down his face.  He had wanted to offer his soulmate comfort but Yennefer had told him not to.  “It will hurt more if you pull him out of the memories.”  </p><p>Jaskier was only unconscious in his memories for 10 minutes but in those 10 minutes Geralt felt like he’d aged centuries, watching the pained expressions and noises Jaskier made as he laid helpless on the bed.  And then Jaskier had awoken and those wide blue eyes still filled with unshed tears had looked at him with such unbridled trust that Geralt…he didn’t know what to do with it.  He’d never had another human being look at him with such trust and Jaskier, after everything he had been through, was the last person Geralt expected to see that trust in.  But it was there.</p><p>“Jaskier.”  Triss said softly, making Jaskier’s attention move from Geralt to the brown haired sorceress.  He was shaking minutely in Geralt’s arms, hand clenching and unclenching in his fists but he wasn’t panicking.  Geralt was taking that as a good sign as he sniffed the lavender of the soap Jaskier used to wash his hair.  Jaskier subconsciously leant further backwards into Geralt’s arms.  His free hand was holding Geralt’s, fingers entwined.</p><p>“We were looking into suppressing your heats.”  Triss stated softly.  Geralt felt Jaskier’s attention perk up as he shifted in Geralt’s arms to look more closely at the sorceresses.  “There are suppressants which you can take to stop them from happening.”  The way Jaskier slumped in Geralt’s arms was like a weight had been lifted from the omega.  “But…”  Here Triss trailed off, glancing at Yennefer as if unsure how to continue.</p><p>Yennefer sat carefully on the bed, taking Jaskier’s free hand in her own.  “You’re too close to this heat to start the suppressants.  I’m sorry Jaskier but you’ll have to go through this before you can start the suppressants.”  Jaskier started to shake more violently in Geralt’s arms, breath coming out in short shallow breathes.</p><p>“Breathe, Jask.”  Geralt murmured, pressing a kiss to Jaskier’s temple.  Jaskier took a shaky breath in, leaning more heavily in Geralt’s arms as his eyes closed.  Slowly Jaskier controlled his breathing and re-opened his eyes to gaze up at Geralt.  There was fear in those eyes.  Fear but those blue eyes were still so full of trust.</p><p>“Is there anything you can do?”  Geralt grunted, turning his eyes from Jaskier’s blue gaze to Yennefer.</p><p>“We can put you in a magical trance.  Your body will still go through your heat but you’ll be mostly unconscious…”</p><p>“No.”  Jaskier said, the first words he’d spoken since Yennefer had returned his memories.</p><p>“Jaskier…”  Geralt tried but Jaskier shut him down with a glare.</p><p>“I won’t lose control like that again.”  Jaskier’s voice was full of surety even as Geralt felt the minute tremors running from Jaskier’s body.  “I can’t.”</p><p>“No will hurt you here Jaskier.”  Geralt tried.  He didn’t want Jaskier to live through another heat, much less suffer in the way Geralt was sure from it.  “No one will take advantage of you here.”</p><p>“I know.”  Jaskier said, gazing fondly up at Geralt.  “But I can’t.”</p><p>“If you’re sure.”  Yennefer stated, moving to stand beside Triss.</p><p>“I am.”  Jaskier assured, squeezing Geralt’s hand softly.</p><p>“If you change your mind let us know.”  Yennefer said, smiling softly at Geralt and Jaskier.  “We’ll leave you to it.”  Jaskier hummed, leaning further back into Geralt’s arms as the two sorceresses exited the rooms.</p><p>“Jaskier.”  Geralt rumbled, watching as Jaskier’s blue eyes opened to look at him again.  “I don’t want you to suffer.  If what Yennefer said would help then shouldn’t you.”</p><p>“I’ll suffer either way.”  Jaskier said, eyes full of sadness and acceptance as he reached a hand to trace Geralt’s jaw.  “If Yennefer puts me under then I’ll just be trapped in the memories.  And I can’t not remember what happens again Geralt.  It’ll hurt worse if I don’t remember it.”  Geralt just hummed, arms tightening around Jaskier.  “Don’t worry.  I’ll be fine.”  Jaskier assured but Geralt didn’t believe him.  He knew only a fraction of what Jaskier had been through and the horrors Geralt now knew lurked in Jaskier’s mind made sure those words held no wait.  “After all.”  Jaskier smiled, soft and warm and so full of trust.  “I have you to protect me.”</p><p>……</p><p>The atmosphere in Kaer Morhen leading up to Jaskier’s heat was tense to say the least.  Every Witcher in Kaer Morhen knew what was coming and ever one of them expected the worst to come of it.  They had all heard the screaming coming from Jaskier’s rooms and while they didn’t know what caused it they could easily guess.  For those Witcher’s that had first met Jaskier knelt naked next to a sadistic King, they knew at least a fraction of the pain and horror Jaskier had endured.</p><p>So they all waited with bated breath as they watched Jaskier growing more and more anxious as the days towards his heat drew ever closer.</p><p>……</p><p>“Do you want to borrow this?”  Ciri asked, holding out a large blue blanket towards Jaskier.  Jaskier startled at the sudden noise at the door to his old rooms.  He had started to build his nest subconsciously in the rooms he had first been given in Kaer Morhen, not wanting to worry Geralt any more by building it in their shared rooms.  And he still wasn’t sure if he could handle Geralt being there for his heat.</p><p>“I…Thank you Ciri.  It’s perfect.”  Jaskier smiled softly, hands running over the warm soft texture.  Ciri nodded, glancing over Jaskier’s shoulder to the piles of blankets and furs stacked in the furthest corner of the room.</p><p>“Wouldn’t you be better on the bed?”  Ciri asked, voice so full of innocence.</p><p>“I…I like it better in a corner.”  Jaskier offered.  It wasn’t the whole truth.  When he had had his heats in Oxenfurt and his very first heats in his home in Lettenhove he had preferred the bed.  The softness of the mattress bringing him comfort while his body fell into indistinguishable agony.  But after Vizimir.  After he had spent all his heats starting and ending tied to a soft warm bed, Jaskier couldn’t bare the idea of having this heat on any sort of bed.  That and Jaskier felt more comfort with the walls surrounding him.  He had debated nesting in the wardrobe, had half started it before physically stopping himself.  He had used to do that in Vizimir’s court.  Nesting and burrowing himself into the wardrobe in the days before his heat.  As if that would stop his heat being used as entertainment.  No, Vizimir’s guards had dragged him bodily more times than Jaskier could count from those nests built so lovingly in the bottom of the wardrobe.</p><p>“Jaskier?”  Ciri’s voice was hesitant and Jaskier berated himself for having lost himself in his train of thought.</p><p>Offering a small smile, Jaskier said: “What are your plans for the day?”  And Ciri launched into an explanation of the lessons Yennefer had prepared for her.  Jaskier let himself get lost in Ciri’s rambling as he fought against the increasing panic rising through him.</p><p>……</p><p>“Good to see you buttercup.”  Lambert grunted over breakfast that morning, slapping Jaskier on the back in the way he had done a hundred times since Jaskier’s arrival and subsequent acceptance from the Witchers.  Jaskier hadn’t flinched from those slaps in months but he did now.  Violently enough to knock over the glass of water he had been reaching for.</p><p>“I…I…I’m sorry.”  Jaskier stammered, feeling panic rising through him.  Vizimir had had him serve a private meal once in his chambers and one of the men had slapped Jaskier’s arse on the way past.  It had been in the first few months of Jaskier’s arrival in Redania and Jaskier hadn’t gotten used to the touches (hasn’t ever really).  He had flinched violently, dropping the jug of wine he was holding.  It had smashed to floor and Vizimir had sighed dramatically, having the guards drag Jaskier over to a table.  Jaskier had cried as his arse was violently hit over and over again until he hadn’t even been able to feel it past the intense pain throbbing from the sensitive area.  A lesson, Vizimir had said.  To get used to the slaps to his arse so he wouldn’t flinch and drop something again.</p><p>“Shit.  Jaskier.  You’ve got nothing to apologise for.”  Lambert grunted.  Eskel was cleaning up the spilled water as Geralt wrapped an arm around Jaskier’s shoulders.  Jaskier looked up at Lambert finding only sincerity there.  “If anyone should apologise it’s me.”</p><p>“Ha, that’ll be a first.”  Eskel laughed and Jaskier found himself smiling tentatively.  He leant further into Geralt’s protective arms as he watched Lambert growl at Eskel, throwing a hit which the scarred Witcher expertly dodged.  A parallel to when Jaskier had first met them.  When they had given him the first clothes Jaskier had worn in 5 years.  Jaskier shivered in Geralt’s arms, a deep urge to go to his nest and wrap himself under mounds of furs and blankets overwhelming him.  The Witcher’s in the great hall watched with worry as Jaskier bolted from the table.</p><p>He could feel Geralt following him, the alpha a steady protective presence there if Jaskier needed him.  Geralt didn’t say a word as Jaskier buried himself under the piles of furs and blankets in his nest, tears running down his face in shame.  “You can come in if you want.”  Jaskier whispered, just audible enough for Geralt’s Witcher hearing to pick up on.</p><p>The white haired Witcher didn’t need telling twice, he sat himself at the edge of Jaskier’s nest.  Jaskier took the alpha’s hand and gently brough him into the soft furs and blankets which made up his nest. He snuggled close to Geralt’s side, breathing deeply into Geralt’s chest.  Smelling the heady scent of his soulmate.  “Lambert’s a dick.”  Geralt grumbled and Jaskier chuckled softly into Geralt’s chest.</p><p>“It wasn’t his fault.”  Jaskier responded after a moment, voice sombre.  “I shouldn’t have reacted like that I’m…</p><p>“Don’t apologise.”  Geralt interrupted with a soft kiss to Jaskier’s head.  “There is nothing to apologise for.”  Jaskier hummed believing the sincerity in Geralt’s voice.</p><p>……..</p><p>When Jaskier’s heat started, he was in the distillery with Triss and Yennefer.  It started with a burning running up his spine, making him feel clammy in the warm room.  He placed the knife he’d been using to cut Triss’ ingredients on the table, trembling hand lifting to wipe at the sweat on his forehead.</p><p>“You ok?”  Triss asked, voice full of concern as she turned to look at Jaskier.  Jaskier went to say he was fine when he felt wetness running down his thighs.  Slick.</p><p>Panic clawed its way up Jaskier’s throat as he felt the need to bury himself in his nest and hide build up in him.  “Jaskier?”  Triss tried but Jaskier didn’t reply.  Panic was running through him and he wasn’t in Kaer Morhen anymore.  He was back in Tretegor.  His heat clawing through him as undiluted fear filled him.  The knowledge that any minute Vizimir would scent the omega’s heat and order his guards to drag Jaskier kicking and screaming to that room.  To be chained to that bed for the use and pleasure of alpha’s.</p><p>Jaskier sobbed, backing away from Triss.  He had to get somewhere safe.  Somewhere where they wouldn’t find him.  His nest.  He had to go there.  “I’ll get Geralt.”  Triss’ final words followed Jaskier as he ran from the room.</p><p>……</p><p>Geralt felt panic claw through him as he made his way to Jaskier’s old room.  The smell of flowers clung heavily in the air, intermingled with the honeysuckle scent of Jaskier.  The Witchers had been told to avoid this area of the castle and Geralt was glad as he felt a wave of lust fill him as he got a heady scent of an omega’s heat.  He had never scented anything so sweet.  So perfect.  So bloody intoxicating as this.  Every alpha instinct in Geralt screamed at him to take, take and take everything he could of that deliciously alluring scent.  But the knowledge that that was exactly what those alpha’s had done to Jaskier every heat for the last 5 years quickly sobered Geralt’s thoughts.  He wouldn’t touch Jaskier in anyway except to offer comfort.</p><p>Slowly, Geralt opened the door to Jaskier’s rooms.  His heart broke at the sight before him.  Jaskier was tangled in the nests, face covered in sweat as his body shivered.  The scent of arousal and slick was heavy in the air but the sight of Jaskier’s blue eyes wide with fear and panic stopped any arousal Geralt felt at the scent.</p><p>“Geralt.”  Jaskier’s voice was breathy and desperate as he lifted his head to meet Geralt’s amber eyes.  Geralt didn’t have to be told twice as he hastened to his soulmates side.</p><p>……</p><p>Jaskier felt Geralt hesitate at the edge of the nest, fingers going to touch Jaskier but hesitating.  “Please.”  Geralt mumbled and before he knew what was happening, he felt Geralt’s arms wrap around him.</p><p>Jaskier’s limbs where like jelly as Geralt held Jaskier close.  He didn’t seem to notice as Jaskier’s hardened cock pressed against his thigh.  And the thought of hands, stroking him to completion.  Hitting his hard and leaking cock as Jaskier cried, desperate for more.  The feeling of a cock pounding against his prostate, aching the itch that plagued him in his heats.  Desperation for something to fill him.</p><p>Before Jaskier knew what was happening, his hips ground against Geralt’s thigh, chasing after a release as he felt the empty ache in his arse.  Jaskier sobbed as he felt the wetness on his breeches as he cummed.  Geralt said nothing, just held Jaskier close, nose buried in Jaskier’s neck.</p><p>“Please Geralt.”  Jaskier begged.  He didn’t even know what he wanted.  He just needed something.  Anything.  Anything to make the memories and the feeling of emptiness go away.</p><p>“You’re ok.”  Geralt hummed, whispering softly into Jaskier’s hair.  “It’ll be fine.”  Jaskier sobbed, moaning as he felt his pants grow wetter as slick ran down them.  He blushed in embarrassment, burying his head into Geralt’s chest.  “What can I do?”  Geralt murmured and Jaskier didn’t know.  He didn’t fucking know how to deal with this.  What to do.  “I can leave.”  Geralt murmured.  “If you don’t want me here.  I can leave.”</p><p>Jaskier shuddered.  The idea of Geralt leaving him so much worse than the embarrassment he felt at Geralt seeing him like that.  Not that Jaskier hadn’t been embarrassed before.  He had spent 5 years in an internal state of it.  “Please don’t leave me.”  Jaskier whispered.</p><p>“I won’t.”  Geralt murmured.  His arms tightened around Jaskier as Jaskier leant further into Geralt’s chest.<br/>Jaskier sobbed as his cock reacted to stimulants that didn’t even exist as the heat drove through Jaskier.  His breeches were a mess from the cum and click soaking them.  “I’ll get you cleaned up.”  Geralt murmured into Jaskier’s hair.  Jaskier just sobbed again.  Memories of being left lying in his own filth, waiting for Vizimir to allow him to be unchained so he could clean himself.  Removing the plug the alpha’s had shoved into him, 3 days worth of cum leaking onto the floor.  Blood leaking out of his arse with that cum.</p><p>“Can I?”  Geralt’s voice was soft as he motioned to Jaskier’s soaked breeches.  Jaskier slowly pulled the breeches and small clothes away with shaking hands.  When the cold air his bared thighs and cock, Jaskier sobbed.  Images of walking Tretegor’s halls in the height of winter.  It had been so cold.  The only heat Jaskier could find was when he was allowed to curl up at Vizimir’s feet near the fire.  Like a dog.  His owner holding the lease in one hand, occasionally choking Jaskier on it when Jaskier would start to fall asleep at his feet.</p><p>“It’s ok.”  Geralt murmured, a cloth in his hands as he hesitantly started to wipe the mess of cum and slick from Jaskier’s thighs.  The cloth was warm and Geralt’s touch gentle.  Jaskier tried to focus on those things, not the shame clawing through him that he couldn’t even do this one thing, his limbs too much like jelly to do anything.</p><p>“I’ve never told you how I became a Witcher have I?”  Geralt’s voice spoke as he worked, gently wiping Jaskier clean.  He helped Jaskier out of his chemise and doublet, cleaning the sweat from Jaskier’s chest.  His hand lingered at the soulmark on Jaskier’s chest before moving on.  It took all Jaskier’s energy to shake his head at the answer.</p><p>Geralt hummed, wrapping a blanket carefully around Jaskier’s body.  The Witcher gently lifted Jaskier’s shaking body into his arms.  His back was against the wall, Jaskier’s head resting in his lap as he carded hands through Jaskier’s sweat dampened hair.  “My Mother left me for the Witcher’s to find.”  Geralt grunted.  “I was only a child at the time and didn’t understand why she would leave me.”  Jaskier lifted blue eyes to meet Geralt’s.  He wanted to offer some comfort to the Witcher but his limbs wouldn’t cooperate enough for him to do it.  Geralt seemed to understand the sentiment though as his eyes turned warm.  “Vesemir trained me.  He treated me like I was his own son.”</p><p>Jaskier listened attentively as Geralt spoke.  Forgetting the feeling of need and want and the empty feeling in the pit of his stomach, as Geralt’s warm grunting voice filled the room.  Geralt spoke of how Vesemir trained and raised him.  Taught him how best to slay a monster as well as teaching Geralt the values his parents should have.  Vesemir had been the one to teach Geralt how to mend tears in his clothing when he tore them in training.  Had shown Geralt how to tend to wounds, how to hunt for meat.  How to find water or the herbs needed for the Witcher trials.  He had been there every step of the way through the trial of grasses, giving Geralt water and wiping the sweat away as the fever ran through Geralt.  And he had been there for Geralt every moment since.  Preparing him for the path.  Offering him council when Geralt became the Witchers warlord.</p><p>And Geralt spoke of his brothers.  Eskel and Lambert.  Of the mischief they used to get into.  How his brothers were always there for each other.  Ready to defend and protect each other against any threat.  They may not be brothers by blood but they were by choice.  They would always love and be there for one another whenever they needed it.</p><p>Geralt told Jaskier how he met Yennefer.  An incident with a Djinn, when Geralt had accidently freed the Djinn, searching for a cure of insomnia.  Geralt explained how he had to save Yennefer’s life when she had tried to be the vessel.  Because Yennefer may come across as a cold-hearted bitch but all she really wanted was a family of her own.  Aretuza had taken that from her when they took her womb and Yennefer had just wanted to have a child of her own.</p><p>And Ciri.  How Geralt had saved her Father’s, Duny, life and claimed the law of surprise as payment.  Finding out Pavetta was pregnant and trying to run from his destiny.  And then Geralt had heard of the sacking of Cintra and he had known he couldn’t run from destiny anymore.  He had taken the Witchers to Cintra, to beat Nilfgaard back.  To save the city and Geralt’s child surprise.  They had succeeded but had been to late to save Calanthe, Ciri’s Grandmother.  She had demanded Geralt honour destiny and protect Ciri with his life.  And he had agreed.  Geralt explained how Ciri had brought more love and joy into Geralt’s life than he had thought possible.  He loved the girl as if she was his own daughter and for all intents and purposes she was.</p><p>Geralt told Jaskier all this over 3 days.  In those 3 days as Jaskier’s heat gripped him, Geralt kept the memories from swallowing him whole by telling Jaskier every detail of his life.  Of his family, of killing monsters, of becoming a warlord, of Renfir.  And Jaskier listened with all his heart, letting Geralt’s words soak through him and chase away the dark memories threatening to engulf Jaskier whole.</p><p>Throughout those 3 days, Jaskier’s body betraying him and making him limp and desperate, Geralt did everything for him.  Cleaned the slick, cum and slick from his body.  Fed Jaskier food and water.  Stroked Jaskier’s hair as Jaskier whimpered through memories and the pain of the emptiness and want running through his body.  And never once did Geralt take advantage.  He only offered comfort and love and affection.</p><p>When the heat was finally over, Jaskier felt himself slump boneless and exhausted against Geralt.  He let the alpha lift him from the bed, still wrapped in furs to cover his naked body.  Geralt placed him gently onto the mattress, climbing in after him.  Geralt’s arms wrapped tightly around Jaskier, pulling Jaskier close to his chest as Jaskier snuggled into Geralt’s chest. </p><p>They fell asleep like that.  Wrapped in each other embrace.  Happy and content.  And so very very much in love.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Mentions of sex</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Jaskier had been in Kaer Morhen for 3 years.  In those 3 years he had blossomed into the man he believed he had always meant to be.  Triss had given him suppressants, ensuring he would never have to live through another heat as long as he lived.  The memories that plagued him for months upon arriving in Kaer Morhen slowly dissipated.  He still woke in a cold sweat from the distant memory of his life in Redania.  But the frequency of those incidents was much less now.  And when they happened, Geralt would awake, instantly offering Jaskier comfort and love and lessening the pain those memories held bit by slow tiny bit.</p><p>Jaskier had been able to follow his dreams of becoming a bard in the safety of Kaer Morhen.  He was slowly growing a reputation that had reached even Oxenfurt and surprisingly Lettenhove.  His songs of the Witchers great and heroic deeds were now sung across the continent and Jaskier felt himself giddy with pride whenever the Witchers came back from the path and told him of bards singing his songs in taverns.</p><p>His Father had sent a letter to Jaskier a year into Jaskier’s stay in Kaer Morhen.  When Jaskier had seen the stamp of Lettenhove, he had felt all the anger and rage he had felt the day his Father told him he was being sold to King Vizimir bubble up in him.  He had spent so long burying that rage and anger that he had forgotten it had ever existed.  His Father had invited him to Lettenhove, intending to apologise for what he had done.  Jaskier refused.  The very thought of seeing the man again sending hate running through him.  Geralt had offered to kill his Father for him.  To exact vengeance on selling his own son to a perverted King.  Jaskier had refused.  No matter the anger and rage he felt, Jaskier still loved his Father.  The only saving grace in his Father’s letter was that Lettenhove and its people was prospering.  At least the money that his Father had gotten from selling Jaskier had succeeded in helping Lettenhove.</p><p>Jaskier spent the time he didn’t with Geralt composing songs and travelling the path with the other Witchers.  Geralt had refused at first to let Jaskier leave the safety of Kaer Morhen at first.  Until Jaskier pointed out that Geralt didn’t own him and Jaskier was free to leave and go as he pleased.  He knew the word owned hurt his soulmate but Jaskier hadn’t cared at that moment.  He had spent too much of his life subject to one man’s will, he would be damned if he wasted anymore of his life.  So Geralt had relented, on the condition Jaskier was accompanied by at least 2 Witchers.  So Jaskier spent weeks travelling the continent in the company of Witchers (most usually Lambert and Aidan), singing the praises of his beloved Witchers.  And slowly the continents perception of Witchers changed.  They no longer feared the warlords.  They no longer spat mutant or monster when Witchers walked through towns.  They weren’t exactly welcoming but they no longer feared and hated the Witchers.  Some brave folk even started to petition Witchers in help dealing with monsters or cruel lords.</p><p>Jaskier had never been so happy.</p><p>……..</p><p>Geralt glanced at Jaskier with worry.  He could smell worry and fear running through his mate as Jaskier changed for bed.  Jaskier had smelt that same smell all day and Geralt couldn’t understand what was wrong.</p><p>“Geralt.”  Jaskier finally said, sitting slowly onto the bed, blue eyes searching Geralt’s.  “I wanted to talk to you about something.”  Geralt instantly knelt at his soulmates side, worry running through him.  “Nothing bad my dear heart.”  Jaskier smiled, trailing a finger down Geralt’s jaw.  “I want…I think I’m ready Geralt.”</p><p>“You don’t have to?”  Geralt’s grumbled.  He and Jaskier had never had sex.  They had kissed and touched constantly, hugs and gentle strokes and simple hand holding.  Recently Jaskier had gotten braver and was touched Geralt, let Geralt touch him as they kissed passionately in bed.  But they had never gone further than Jaskier guided them and until this point Jaskier had never made any mention of having sex.  Geralt knew it was still hard for Jaskier to be naked.  He would be naked with Geralt with more comfort after his heat but Jaskier still struggled with the hot springs under Kaer Morhen, preferring to bathe when he knew the hot springs where empty.</p><p>“I want to.”  Jaskier whispered, blue eyes wide as he kissed Geralt softly on the lips.</p><p>Geralt hummed, letting Jaskier guide him down onto the bed. </p><p>…..</p><p>Jaskier moaned as Geralt kissed him.  They were both naked, pressed close together, Jaskier’s hands wrapped tightly around Geralt’s back as Geralt braced himself above Jaskier on the bed.  “Please Geralt.  I want this.  I’m ready.”  Jaskier said in between kissing.  He had been considering this for weeks.  The thought of sex with Geralt slowly turning into an intoxicating idea rather than a terrifying one this last year as the memories of his continuous abuse and rape slowly turned into distant memories.</p><p>“You’re sure?”  Geralt asked one last time.</p><p>“Yes.  I trust you.”  Jaskier promised and that seemed to be all Geralt needed.</p><p>Geralt was gentle as he inserted oil cover fingers into Jaskier’s hole.  Jaskier shivered, clutching tightly to Geralt’s back.  No one had ever prepared him before.  After a few months in Vizimir’s court Jaskier had been used that much he hadn’t even need to prepare himself to stop the rapes from hurting.  </p><p>Slowly, Geralt inserted another finger, pausing for a moment and asking.  “This ok?”  Jaskier hummed in answer, panting into Geralt’s ear.  Eventually, 3 fingers later, Geralt deemed Jaskier ready.</p><p>Jaskier leant back on the bed, legs wrapped around Geralt’s chest and Geralt gently guided himself in.  He paused for a moment with just the head in, waiting for Jaskier to get adjusted.  When Jaskier nodded, Geralt gently pushed in.  Slowly, Geralt bottomed out.  Jaskier felt pleasure run through him as he wrapped legs tightly around Geralt’s waist.  “Ready?”  Geralt grumbled, head dropping down to kiss Jaskier softly.</p><p>“Ready.”  Jaskier promised.  Geralt’s thrusts were soft and gentle.  Not the violent taking thrusts Jaskier had always received, but gentle and kind and loving.  Jaskier keened as Geralt found his prostate, feeling himself responding to the touch.  Geralt’s hands found Jaskier’s cock, stroking him softly through Jaskier’s orgasm.  When Jaskier was finished, Geralt pulled out.  His cock was still hard and he took himself in hand and stroked himself to completion, coating both Jaskier and Geralt in the sticky substance.</p><p>Geralt took a cloth and wiped the mess from both their bodies before collapsing next to Jaskier, taking the omega into his arms and sniffing at his neck softly.  Jaskier hummed in contentment, his soul mark fluttering on his chest.  “Will you mark me?”  Jaskier whispered.</p><p>“You want me to?”  Geralt’s amber eyes stared up at Jaskier, eyes wide with surprise.</p><p>“Of course I do.”  Jaskier whispered.  He had wanted Geralt to mark him from the moment after Jaskier’s heat.  It had just taken this long to build up the confidence.  This…This had just cemented the fact in Jaskier’s head.  “I love you and you are mine.  I want you forever and ever.  Only ever you.”</p><p>Geralt considered Jaskier for a moment before nodding.  “Then mark me as well.”  Jaskier looked up at Geralt’s sincere amber eyes, love and affection running through them and how could Jaskier refuse him.</p><p>“Together?”  Jaskier asked and Geralt nodded.</p><p>“Together.”  Geralt’s teeth sunk into the scent gland at Jaskier’s neck at the same time Jaskier’s teeth sunk into Geralt’s.  Geralt moaned into Jaskier’s neck as Jaskier panted as a warm rush of feeling ran through him.</p><p>When they finally let go, Jaskier felt as if he could see into Geralt’s very soul.  Looking at the amber eyes of Geralt’s face, he could tell Geralt felt the very same.  Geralt hummed, wrapping Jaskier against his chest, humming softly in contentment as Jaskier buried his face into Geralt’s neck.</p><p>He was Geralt’s and Geralt was his.  For ever.  And Jaskier couldn’t have been more happy and content if he tried.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>This is the final chapter so I hope you all enjoyed this series and thank you all for the lovely reviews :)</p>
        </blockquote><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This was originally meant to be a one shot but has instead developed into something a bit longer.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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